A Recipe for Disaster
by Arcawolf
Summary: Berk is left shocked after a battle with a witch goes wrong. Everyone's horrified . . . except for Toothless. Apparently, he didn't care whether his surrogate brother was a human or dragon. Or, the one where Hiccup becomes a baby Night Fury.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Dragons. You've probably heard of them. Big, scaly lizards with a slightly unhealthy attachment to fire. Terrifying mythical monsters that have filled our legends since the beginning of time. I'm sure you've heard of them. You probably know a lot about them.

But of course, if you believed everything I just said, you obviously don't know as much as you think you do. See, not everything I told you is true. I'm not talking about the scaly part – that's true. Or the big part – that's usually true. And certainly not the fire part. No, the lie I told was the mythical part, because you see, dragons are very, very _real_. My village was at war with them for hundreds of years before Toothless and I came along. Now, we all live together in harmony. We're partners, allies, best friends. Virtually every family in Berk has at least one dragon of their own, and everyone able to shoot a bow knows how to ride one. I'm no exception. I got one, too: Toothless. He's a good guy. A little too obsessed with chewing on tables, but I still love him.

Seeing as we're a village full of dragon-riding Vikings (and trust me, it's every bit as awesome as it sounds) you would think that any intelligent resident of Berk would naturally have an open mind about other mythical beasts. Maybe for everyone else that was true, but not me. Nope. No way. I didn't think there could be anything out there other than dragons. So, when I finally found my first so-called witch, I laughed.

Right up until she started throwing lightning at me.

"Move!" I cried.

My foot shifted in the stirrup, changing gear and sucking in Toothless's tailfin as he twisted to dive. A stream of yellow lightning passed over us, just inches away from frying me. The clouds rumbled. The residual light made Toothless's eyes glow.

"Careful, guys!" I called. "She's winding up for another!"

"I got it." Fishlegs grinned atop his hovering Gronckle, and pointed at the witch. "Meatlug, go!"

Above me, Meatlug spat out a glob of fire. It descended to earth with a whine, picking up speed as it did.

The witch snarled. She leapt out of the way, and unleashed another bolt of hot lightning.

"Oops." Fishlegs said. He and Meatlug watched with wide eyes as the lightning drew closer –

"Hookfang, now!"

With a war cry, Snotlout and his Nightmare swept in, bearing down directly on top of Meatlug, forcing both rider and dragon below the lightning. That wasn't all it did; the momentum sent Meatlug and Fishlegs down further, right into the ocean.

"You're welcome!" Snotlout hollered. He jutted out his chin, puffed out his cheeks, and looked around for a certain someone. "Hey, Ruffnut, did you see that?"

"Yeah, yeah," Ruffnut grunted. "Eyes on the prize, loser."

With Ruffnut atop one head and her twin atop the other, Barf and Belch weaved their way toward the witch. The Zippleback twisted past one bolt, drew its necks far apart to evade another. Meanwhile, I urged Toothless higher, higher –

"Got you!" Armed with a sharp grin, Astrid patted her Nadder's neck, signalling her to fire. The Nadder swooped in behind the witch, bearing her wings wide to slow herself.

The witch yelped. She barely dove out of the way, and flames scorched the rocks next to her. But she managed to force Stormfly back with more lighting. The witch rose, bushy-haired and wild-eyed . . .

This seemed as good a time as any.

"Like we discussed, Toothless. Ready . . ."

He found a spot above the witch, and hovered.

" . . . Now!"

We dove. The witch stiffened as she heard the telltale shriek of a Night fury preparing to fire.

The second she looked up, it was done.

No, we didn't shoot _her_. I wasn't looking to splatter her all over the island. Toothless just hit the ground next to her, which I heard feels like being smacked by a Gronckle's tail.

A cloud of dust rose, hiding everything on the ground. Grains stirred, moving away like a school of fish as the other riders and I descended. Once we hit land, I dismounted, taking a moment to switch my prosthetic leg from its flying setting to its walking setting.

I hadn't heard anything yet. I held my hand up, warning the others to stay back. Off my waist, I grabbed my sword, and the fire lining it made just a tiny bit easier to see through the dust.

A hand reached out.

The witch was on the ground, completely brown with dirt. She clawed her way up to her hands and knees, hissing, "You . . ."

I bopped her on the head with my sword's pommel, and she dropped.

I turned. "Everyone accounted for?"

As I spoke, Fishlegs and Meatlug finally caught up. They were dripping and panting. "Yeah, I think so."

"Great." I looked at the still witch. "Now what? I don't think a regular cell would hold her."

Tuffnut laughed darkly. "Let's burn her."

"Nah." Ruffnut shoved her brother aside. "I say we fling her off a catapult!"

"Oh, oh, I know!" Fishlegs bounced up and down, hand up. "Let's leave her on a rock in the middle of nowhere!"

As they, plus Snotlout all began to argue, I rolled my eyes and walked toward Astrid. "What do you think?"

"I don't know." She frowned thoughtfully, absently petting her purring Nadder. "I'm sure Stoick would like to know why she's here and where she came from, but it's too risky to bring her back."

"Well, we could always keep her in place and bring him here." I lifted an arm, and flexed. "I think I'm strong enough to wrestle an old lady."

Astrid laughed. She flicked my bicep, teasing, "You sure about that?"

"Hey, I've been working out," I said, strutting around her. "It takes a lot of muscle to wrangle a vicious Night Fury, you know."

She smiled. "I'm sure."

"I might even be stronger than you . . . _Argh_! Okay, you win!"

Astrid released me from the lock she had me in, and I rubbed my sore wrist tenderly. She offered me her hand, and pulled me to my feet. At that, Toothless and Stormfly, reassured that no fighting was happening, went back to trying to herd the remaining bits of dust in the air.

"Nice try," she told me.

"Someday." When she playfully rolled her eyes, I walked backwards and said, "No, you just watch. I'm going to became a big, hairy giant like my Dad, and then you will be sorry you ever teased me . . ."

As I was speaking, Astrid's eyes had grown wide. Odd, but maybe I sounded scarier than I thought –

"_Hiccup, behind you!_"

I looked just in time to see a very much awake witch. A white beam shot from her hand directly toward me.

Toothless shrieked. A ball of purple fire emerged from his throat, seeking to intercept –

The two smashed together. The beam didn't stop. Now, it was just covered with purple sparks as it came toward me.

This was going to be fun.

_Boom_.

A quick wiggle told me that I had all my fingers and toes. I could still see . . . oh joy, I was still alive. Hooray! And I didn't feel like I was missing anything. Maybe Toothless's fire had done the job after all. You know what they say: dragons trump witches!

Speaking of the witch, Toothless had pounced, and I don't think she would be getting up again.

"Well, that could have been a lot worse." I shook my head, and shuddered. "Good thing, Toothless was there to save the day. Right, bud?"

Toothless panted. He wagged his hindquarters.

"Okay, now we need to get back to Berk." I glanced at the others. "Why is everyone looking at me like that?"

By that, I meant slack-jawed and with pale faces. Even Astrid. It was pretty adorable.

Stormfly suddenly hopped closer. She leaned down, and sniffed me.

"Hello to you, too." I said.

"Hiccup?" Astrid walked forward, scanning the air. "Hiccup, are you there?"

"Uh, yes," I said. "Astrid, I'm literally right in front of you."

She continued to look at the air above me. What was she doing? I walked up to her, determined to get her to stop this madness . . .

Whoa. _Whoa_.

Since when did Astrid get this tall?

She looked down – _down_ – at me. In a tight voice, she said, "Hiccup, is that you? Nod if you understand."

I had no idea why she was treating me like this, but I nodded. When I did, instead of being relieved, Astrid was clearly horrified. She held her hand over her mouth, and backed away, whispering, "Odin . . ."

She wasn't the only one. Everybody was giving me that same horrified look. Except the dragons. And even they – with the exception of Toothless who seemed to be practically leaping into the air with excitement - were looking at me strangely.

I looked around. What . . .?

I noticed my helmet. It must have fallen off when the witch attacked. I walked up to it, intending to put it on.

Something was wrong. It shouldn't be this big.

I leaned closer. Peered into the shiny metal at my own reflection.

I saw green eyes. A black body.

_Wings._

I screamed.

* * *

**People were asking for a transformation fic, so here's a transformation fic. I don't have the story written out beforehand, so I can't guarantee an update schedule. But that also means I can accept some prompts this time.  
**

**This takes place between the two movies. All of the devices, except the gliding suit, seen in the second movie have been invented.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A lot of people have asked if Hiccup is now able to speak dragon. The answer is potentially. Hiccup now has the capacity to understand and communicate with them, but only once he's learned the "language". The reason that's in quotes is because some of dragon speech is non-verbal, so he has to figure all of that out too.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"This is terrible. _Terrible_! I'm a dragon. A dragon! Not even a big one. I'm a hatchling. Dad's going to kill me for this. No, he's going to completely freak out, and then he'll kill me!"

I moaned. I meant to grab my head, but I had forgotten I now needed four legs to stand. So I just face-planted into the ground.

I rolled over. "Help me."

The other teens stared.

Ruffnut burst out, "He's _adorable_!"

What? I got back to my feet, but wasn't fast enough to avoid Ruffnut.

"Look at him!" She gushed. One hand was splayed across my stomach, holding me to her chest. The other was poking me in the cheek with each word she spoke. "Aren't you a cute, bloodthirsty, little Night Fury?"

Astrid scowled. "Ruff . . ."

She laughed. "Relax, Astrid. I'm not hitting on your boyfriend. You have to admit he's cute."

She pinched my cheek and tugged. I tried to shove her away, but that just made her go, "Aww!"

"Give him to me!" Astrid, my saviour, snatched me away. She held me under the armpits, holding me out as far from her as she could. "Guys, what are we going to do about this?"

Silence.

Toothless whined. He bounded up to where Astrid was holding me and sat patiently.

I squirmed. Astrid got the point and set me down where Toothless, in his haste, rammed me hard with his snout and flipped me over. He sniffed, maybe to double-check that it was really me, and then dragged me toward him by the tail. He laid down, one leg on either side of me.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I said to him.

He nuzzled me. Then he licked my face.

"We need to get back to Berk," Astrid declared.

"Yes, I agree!" I said.

"What about the witch?" Snotlout asked.

"See if she has any books on her," I told him. "It could give us a clue how to reverse this."

"Check if she has anything on her," Astrid said. "We might be able to figure out how to cure him."

"Okay, what about Toothless?" Ruffnut asked. "Doesn't he need Hiccup to fly?"

"Astrid can take him," I said. "I showed her how to fly Toothless."

"I'll take him," Astrid said. "Hiccup taught me the basics of how to work the tailfin, just in case . . . well, in case something like this happened."

"Uh, I just said that," I told her. She ignored me, as did everyone else. "Why are you repeating everything I say?"

I had tried to approach her, but one of my too-many legs tripped me up. I laid there, staring at what I realized were not fingers anymore, but toes.

I was struck by a thought: could the other Vikings still understand me?

"Astrid? Hey, Astrid! Can you hear me?"

She didn't respond.

"Oh, no . . ."

Things had just gone from bad to worse.

I screamed up at Toothless. "Toothless, blink twice if you understand me."

He stared at me.

He licked my face.

Forget worse. We were doomed.

* * *

I had honestly thought that turning into a dragon would have engraved the secret knowledge of dragon speech into my brain. Apparently not, though, as none of them were responding to my flurry of barks and howls, and I couldn't understand their noises either. I could see them concentrating, trying to figure out what I was saying, but nothing so far. Somehow, becoming the same species just made me even more alien to them.

I was nestled in Astrid's lap, the tip of my tail resting against Toothless's saddle. So far, she had gotten Toothless safely into the air with little trouble. No, the trouble had been getting on Toothless in the first place. Every time Astrid had tried to climb on with me onto the saddle, Toothless had moved away and turned so that he could stare at me. While everyone was caught in various degrees of shock, he seemed utterly delighted by my affliction.

"Astrid, you okay?" Fishlegs called out from somewhere behind us.

"Fine!" she shouted back. "Don't worry about me, I can handle this . . ."

I heard the gears click.

We fell out of the sky, leaving an echoing trail of screams.

"Sorry!" Astrid clung tight to Toothless as he climbed back up. "My foot slipped."

I buried my head in my arms.

Apart from the occasional cooing from Ruffnut, it was pretty quiet flying back. Normally, the journey back home would be filled with enthusiastic retellings of our latest battle, illustrated by the elaborate arm movements and flailing of one Snotlout Jorgenson. Not this time. I think the thought of how Dad was going to react had damped the mood a little.

Astrid landed farther from Berk than she usually would, giving herself time to slip off Toothless before anyone noticed. She held me close to her, doing her best to hide me from any prying eyes and ran for my house.

"Stoick! Are you here? It's me, Astrid!" She knocked on the door violently. I feared it would crack. Behind us, Toothless barked.

The door swung open.

"Astrid!"

I knew dragons had sharp hearing, but I hadn't expected it to be like this. Dad's voice boomed through my skull, as if seeking to crush it, and I curled into a ball of agony.

"I see you all are back. How's my favourite daughter-in-law?" Her grip around me tightened as Dad wrapped her in a brief hug, and then a tremor went through us both as he slapped her on the back. "I see Toothless is here, too. Where's Hiccup gone off to?"

"Well, you see . . ."

"Taking care of business, isn't he?" Dad laughed. "That's my boy! Always working. Has he shown you what he's got down at the forge? You see, he's been playing around with some metal crafting . . ."

My heart stopped. He wouldn't.

" . . . and you remember that little figurine you were admiring when the traders came by?"

He WOULD. I wanted to cry. He was ruining the surprise!

My pained groan attracted Dad's attention. For the first time, he spied the tiny bundle – aka. _Me_ – in Astrid's arms.

"Astrid," he whispered, "is that . . .?"

I felt her wince. "Stoick, I am so sorry . . ."

"Shh . . ." He held a hand up, silencing her. "I don't believe it. Hiccup finally found another one."

"It's not what you think . . ."

"Why, hello there, little guy!" Dad grabbed one of my hands – paws, whatever – and shook it up and down. "Nice to meet you. You can just call me Uncle Stoick."

"He's not a dragon," Astrid cut in. "I mean he is, but he's not –"

"Oh, a girl, then? Sorry, my mistake." Against Astrid's protest, he took me from her. The sun was hot on my back as he held me up in front of his face. "Don't you worry, sweetheart. We're going to take good care of you."

He leaned in, and rubbed his nose against mine. If I could still blush, I would have. Not for myself, but for him. Dad was going to be _so_ embarrassed.

"Stoick . . ."

"Where did he find her?" Dad asked. By this point, Toothless was jumping around on his hind legs trying to reach me. Dad obediently lowered his arms so that Toothless could sniff. "Did the parents come, too?"

"Hiccup didn't find him," Astrid said.

"Oh? Did she find him, then?" He smiled at me, and stroked my head. I counted down the seconds until the explosion. Three. Two. One . . .

"Stoick, that _is_ Hiccup."

Dad's hand froze mid-stroke. He slowly turned me to look him in the eye.

I raised a paw in greeting, and smiled.

* * *

**Review Response:**

**Jazz: Once a week sounds good, so I'll go with that for now. If I finish the story early, I'll bump it up to twice a week again.**

**Nameless: Thank you!**

**a random person: Great ideas, however, I think I already know how Hiccup will be turning back. Thanks for the suggestions, though!**

**Guest: Are you going to be mad if I say yes? I'm sorry if you don't like it, but the current plot I have in mind for this fic makes it essential that Hiccup is a baby and not just a small Night Fury. Sorry?**

**Aguest: He's like Toothless, but with 10x the adorableness!**

**Snowflake: I'm going with the fandom idea that dragons have much longer lifespans. Hence, why Hiccup translates into such a young dragon**


	3. Chapter 3

**Just a few quick clarifications:**

**Regarding HTTYD 2: I currently intend to bring in some elements of that movie, but they might not be the same as they were shown in the movie. In a similar vein, I haven't seen Riders of Berk, so there may be some differences between what was established in that series and what is shown here.**

**Hiccup's Age: Colbalt Sunfire pointed out to me that when I said baby Night Fury, a lot of people assumed that meant freshly hatched. That was an oversight on my part; in my mind, any Night Fury that wasn't completely independent from its parents was a baby. So, while Hiccup is still significantly younger than Toothless, he's not so young that he can't eat solid food or anything. I would put him at around three years old.**

**People have also raised concerns over the discrepancy between Valka's line in HTTYD 2 (the one that placed Hiccup and Toothless at around the same age), and the fact that Hiccup turned into such a young dragon. So, in order to bring this fic in line with HTTYD 2, let's just go with that the reason Hiccup deaged has nothing to do with their respective ages, and has everything to do with magic. So, in short: a witch did it! :D  
**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"So?"

"So."

Astrid and Dad were sitting at the table, appearing like they were staring at each other, but really they were looking into space. I was sitting on the tabletop between them, trying to figure out how to keep my wings closed. I hadn't had any trouble with them before, but that's because I hadn't really noticed them. Now, they seemed to flop down every time I relaxed. And I wasn't even going to get started on the awkward protrusion that was my new tail.

The table bumped. Toothless was down below, gnawing on one of the legs. Neither Astrid nor Dad seemed coherent enough to stop him.

"And the witch just died?"

"Yep," Astrid said. "Didn't leave behind a spellbook or anything."

"Oh." Dad shifted. He looked like he wanted to poke me. "Well, that's unfortunate."

"Yep."

The table bumped again, more violently. Skullcrusher had just decided to join Toothless. Unlike Toothless, he didn't really fit, and the table ended up bobbing up and down as it teetered on his back.

"Out from there." With his foot, Stoick shooed both Toothless and Skullcrusher away. "So, any suggestions on how to deal with this?"

"Not one," Astrid said. "Hiccup might have one, though."

They looked at me hopefully. I shook my head.

"Darn." Stoick drummed his fingers against the table. "I'll speak to Gothi. Maybe she'll know."

"Hopefully."

As the front door shut, signalling Dad's departure, Astrid sighed. "Guess we're postponing that picnic."

I waddled up to her, doing my best to shrug.

She giggled. "That's cute."

I scowled. I sat down and turned my head away from her, letting her know exactly how I felt –

My wings flopped open.

She giggled again.

* * *

I always hear people telling others to use their eyes more, or their ears more, or whatever assorted body part they wanted to talk about. What I don't hear is people saying to use your nose more, which is a real shame, because boy, we missed _so much_. Yesterday, I had been a little too wrapped up in events to notice, or maybe my brain was too busy adjusting to register the smells, but now? _Wow_.

I woke up to the smell of dew and sheepskin. The sheepskin was normal – what else would we make our blankets out of? Dew was an unusual scent. See, in geographic terms, Berk sits right on the Belt of No Summer, so I usually only ever saw dew as frozen beads of water. The wooden walls, damp but sturdy, carried a taste of mulch to it. Or maybe that was coming from outside; I had left my window open. Taking another breath, I could detect some of the wildflowers that grew outside my window, and with them, a cool edge of frost.

I yawned. I had no arms to stretch, but my wings filled in for them. They fell to my sides afterwards, like a loose piece of parchment. My bed sure was cozy today.

I hopped to the edge of the bed, and peered over. Odd. Where was Toothless?

Someone breathed behind me.

"Toothless! You know you're not allowed on the bed."

Toothless yawned. His teeth popped out of their sockets. He smacked his lips, and then warbled a good morning.

"Off, Toothless!" I planted my two front paws on Toothless and _pushed_. He stared at me curiously.

I backed off. Lowered my head and charged. Hah! Take that! Now he was moving . . .

But not from me. Toothless had rolled over to his side, but in a flash, he had hooked his paw under me and pulled me against his chest. He rolled onto his back with a very confused me sitting on top of him.

"Uh . . ."

He swatted me. Both of his paws were up, like raised fists in a fighting stance.

"Uh, no. Not happening, bud." I pounced on one leg, wrapping my own around it, and shoved it down with my chin. Toothless's leg bent under the force.

More force then? You got it! I drew myself up high, and slammed down.

But despite my earlier success, this time I merely slid off the leg and landed face-first on his chest. A strong scent of salt water and smoke greeted me.

"You smell," I told him. When he smiled in answer, a wave of fishy air slapped me in the face. I wasn't as revolted as I would usually be.

There was something else. Something sharp and biting. Metallic. I traced that down to the prosthetic. I really, really should have felt bad about that, but a little part of me was proud that I had made an impact on Toothless's personal scent. I looked for further traces of me, and observed that there was a musky undertone to his scent, and that he smelled . . . cold. It was hard to describe, but it had that same make-your-nose-hairs-stiffen effect that a gust of wind did. I couldn't find anything else that resembled me, but I also wasn't in the habit of sniffing myself, so I had no idea what to look for.

What did I smell like? Suddenly, no other question had been so interesting. I turned, trying to press my nose against my shoulder, but couldn't quite reach –

But that's what tails were for. I eyed the loose limb hungrily. It was so long, there was no way I couldn't reach it.

However, there was the unfortunate fact that my tail, well, was permanently stuck to my body. When I swung around to catch it, it swung out of my way. I shook myself. I glanced over at Toothless, who seemed putout that I wasn't wrestling with him anymore.

"Just wait a second," I said to him. I crouched, bracing myself for the hunt. "Aha!"

I charged. My tail slipped out of the way at the last second, and I couldn't stop myself . . .

"_Ahh!_"

It was a long fall from the bed to the floor. I had enough time for my life to flash before my eyes. It was pretty boring. Unless running away and being shout at by angry people, and failing, exploding inventions were your thing. And even if they weren't, it was only boring up until the part where I met Toothless. Then, everything was great.

As I hung there, pondering, it became apparent that the floor hadn't gotten any closer for a few seconds. I looked up.

I sighed in relief. I might have failed at catching my tail, but someone else hadn't.

"Hiccup?"

I looked at the doorway. Huh. I must have looked funny: dangling over my floor, held up only by the tip of my tail.

"Alright, Toothless, I think you can put him down," Dad said.

Toothless did so. As in he let go and let me drop. I glared at the other Viking. Thanks, Dad. At least you had the courtesy to wince.

"You okay, Hiccup?"

I was going to say yes, but Dad walked forward at the same moment a breeze came through the open window and _whoa_, he reeked! Toothless's scent had been musky, but Dad's was _really_ musky. I could smell the sheepskin he had slept with too, and a wonderful cologne of manly sweat and dirt-caked grime. At the same time, his smell was relaxing. There must have been something in it that signified family.

"Hiccup?" He waved his hand in front of my eyes. I wondered what would happen if I snapped at it, but instead, I lifted my paw and pushed his away, giving him what I imagined to be a suave and indifferent stare.

Hey, I wonder what Astrid smelled like?

"Nice talk and all, Dad, but I got things to smell!" I bounded past him and out of the house, pausing only to take a deep breath of some meat boiling over the fire. Still needed to grab breakfast at some point.

Berk was different from this angle. Houses rose like mountains. The sun behind them made giant shadows that hid their lower halves. The stone steps that ran down from my house to the village square were the same height as me, so I ended up walking down the grassy slope beside it. When I did get on stone again, my claws made little clicking sounds.

I breathed deeply. By far, the strongest smell in Berk was that of fish. No surprise there; we have a few all-you-can-eat buffets set up for the dragons. The other smells? Most I didn't recognize; others were ones that I had smelt when I was human, but much stronger.

It was then that I realized I had walked into the middle of Berk. And everyone was staring.

Well, here goes nothing.

People stared. I had already known that news of my transformation had spread like wildfire. No thanks to the twins, I bet. Odin knew that the best way to spread information around was to tell it to them in confidence. The dragons, on the other hand, didn't pay me much attention. Until I got close enough to smell. Then they all perked up, nostrils flared as they tasted the familiar scent that was not supposed to belong to a dragon.

Great, they were getting closer.

"Hi." I said.

I was now surrounded by dragons. Little Terrors, about my size, clung to the necks and bodies of the others. Thunderdrums and Gronckles formed a circle that kept me from fleeing; a Nightmare had managed to force its way through. The long necks of Zipplebacks rose over top of them. An unintentional growl left my throat. I was a person who enjoyed my personal space very much, thanks. Only Toothless and Astrid were allowed to invade it whenever they wanted. The dragons' scents were all intertwined, but I found that if I focused, I could isolate's one dragon's scent from the rest, the way you could choose to listen to one conversation while others were going on around you.

A hard snout dug into my flank. I whirled around, snapping at the dragon to tell him to quit it. Then the Nightmare poked me. I went up on my back legs trying to swat his claw. When my front fell back down, it was to land on the snout of a Gronckle, who shook himself to dislodge me. Before I could recover and stand up again, a Terror leapt on me.

"Come on, get off!" I complained as the Terror crawled all over me.

All my voice did was lure in another five of them.

My head hit the ground. Great.

My wings flopped open.

Then, the dragons stilled. They were all looking toward the Great Hall, even the Terrors on top of me.

A dragon yowled.

In a burst of barks and whines, the dragons exploded into the sky. Through the cloud of wings, I caught glimpse of a black creature bounding toward me. Not just any creature – a certain Night Fury. Toothless skidded to a stop beside me, snapping at and chasing off the last Terror, and then bumped me with his head.

I patted him as best as I could. "Thank you."

"It _is_ him," I heard someone exclaim.

Yep. Showtime. I extended my wings. Attempted to. Didn't quite work the first time. I got them halfway out before I had to close them and then try again.

"There we go." I balanced as best as I could on my back legs. "Yes, everyone it's true: I'm a Night Fury. Don't really know how, don't really know when I'll turn back, so everyone's just going to have to deal with it. Uh, haven't been able to talk to dragons so far, so don't ask about that. I would also prefer if you didn't tease Astrid about her boyfriend being a dragon. Remember, I'm the chief's son, so you don't want to get on my bad side. Any questions?"

Everyone just stared at me.

"Whoa, there!" Toothless had just come up behind me, and had nearly lifted me with his snout. "Careful, I'm still not used to this whole dragon-thing."

He got me off the ground, then. I curled up on top of his head, right between his ears. His scales were warm from the sun. Perfect.

"Oi! So this is where our dragon-boy has gotten off to."

"Hey, Gobber." The tip of my tail flicked as I said that. I swear I didn't tell it to do that.

"Well, this is a bit of a doozy, ain't it?" Gobber walked up to me and crouched so that we were eye-level. He carried a very strong stench that I bet matched the forge – as in molten metal and burning wood. I had to remind myself not to be grossed out because I probably smelt the same a good three days out of every week.

Gobber lifted my chin with his hook. Then tried to pry my mouth open, although I fought him on that. He did take the time to pluck at my tail, though.

"Are we absolutely sure this is Hiccup," Gobber asked, "and not just some poor, baby Night Fury?"

I lifted my paw and pointed at myself. A very Viking-ish and not dragon-ish move.

"Well, alrighty then."

A melodic voice floated into the midst of our one-sided conversation. "Believe me, I wish it wasn't true."

"Astrid!" I would have leapt to my feet, but Toothless was faster. His head whipped around fast, and I had to keep lying there in order to stay on. See, Toothless loved Astrid. In his eyes – and in my Dad's - she was as good as family.

He ran over to her with me bobbing precariously on his head, claws trying to find a hold. My whole body vibrated as Toothless hummed, responding to Astrid's scratching.

"Don't you look beautiful, today," I said to her. Her hair was radiant in the sunlight, and it was also making her eyes sparkle. She smelled nice too; there was none of that musk that followed Toothless, Dad and Gobber around. Plus, her voice . . . as a human I had never been able to hear all the little inflections and layers that made it. By the time I would be able to speak again, I would have a whole new set of compliments to dazzle her with.

Was this strange? Mulling over all the flattery that I, a dragon, could give her? As I said, I was a dragon, now. But mentally, I was definitely human, and the human side of me most definitely still considered Astrid my girlfriend.

"How are you feeling?" she asked me.

I nodded. "Good, good."

I heard and smelt them before I saw the other teens, and quickly scanned through each of their scents for future reference. It was then I finally noticed the pattern: the musk seemed to be following the males around. Guess that was how dragons determined gender.

"Aw, there's my little killer!"

Ruffnut descended. I backed away and some sharp noise – a squawk, I think – exploded from my chest. I had no idea what it was, or _why_ I had done that, but Toothless suddenly snapped to attention. In one smooth move, he tipped his head so that I slid off, snatched me up in a wing, and deposited me between his front paws. He hunched over at the shoulders, wings curling forward and leaving only a small gap in front of me. I heard Ruffnut shuffle closer; Toothless shied away from the sound, teeth bared.

I looked up. "Toothless, what was that?"

Toothless ignored me. He glared at something, maybe Ruffnut.

Interesting.

I tried to make the sound again, but it didn't come out as loud or sharp as it did before. It caught Toothless's attention though. He cocked his head and made what I called his _dok dok dok _sound. Kind of like the sound you hear when you repeatedly hit a hollow tube of wood.

So I squawked again. Toothless cocked his head to the other side. I squawked, drawing him in closer.

By the fourth squawk, he was rubbing his cheek against my back and purring. A warm tongue dragged itself across my neck.

Whispers. When I looked up, Astrid stepped back from Ruffnut. She rolled her eyes, but there was a bright smile on her face.

"Fine," Astrid said. "I'll admit it: that was adorable."

I smiled in her direction. It was okay if Astrid said that.

Hey, hold on a second. Had I just talked to Toothless? Okay, 'talked', since I had absolutely no idea what I had said, if anything. But his reaction to my squawking hadn't been like the befuddled reactions of the dragons yesterday.

Holy crap.

_I could speak to dragons_.

. . . kind of.

* * *

**Review Responses**

**a random person: No, he doesn't. And that's why we love him!**

**Snowflake: Well, it could have been worse. It could have been Snotlout-in-dragon-form instead ;)**

**Jazz: That's because I don't know what day it is :) It'll probably be Thursday-ish.**

**As of now, no. Against the Grain is not happening. I didn't like the way that story turned out, so I'm canceling it.**

**dragon lifespan: Yay! A debate! I would say it all depends on what you define as a long lifespan. From what I've gathered, Vikings had a relatively short lifespan, so you could argue that even 200 years is still a much longer lifespan than your average Viking. Personally, I would cap it at 500 years, and then only for certain breeds. A few thousand years is definitely way too long due to the overpopulation issue you brought up. **

**That said, I would argue that the 10:1 death ratio from HTTYD also doesn't mean much, as it implies that dragons are only killed by Vikings, it's applicable only to the dragons that were attacking Berk, and it was said in the heat of the moment where I doubt that either Stoick and Hiccup were bringing up actual statistics instead of exaggerating to try to make a point. Also, ****Nile Crocodiles are estimated to live between 70-100 years, and they lay about 50 eggs per year, so I don't think the 6 hatchings/year is that significant (in my head, crocodiles are definitely a relative of dragons :D)... No idea if that last thing added to the debate at all, but I thought it was a fun fact. But ANYWAYS, I'd be happy to keep talking to you about this. I love discussing dragon headcanon :)  
**

**Funny you would bring up Eragon, because I think that's an even worse offender than this fandom with the long-lifespan thing. I mean in Eragon there were (back in the heyday?) mountain-sized dragons flying around that lived for thousands of years ... how did they not drive everything to extinction? Like, what did they eat? XD  
**

**anonymouse: Let's just say everyone is adorable!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Minutes later, I was certain I had translated one part of dragon speech: the squawk. Not the high-pitched one that had Toothless shielding me with his wings, but the more neutral one that required no special work from me. It seemed to be some variation of _Pay attention to me! _I had great fun squawking and luring Hookfang away from Snotlout.

It drove Toothless crazy. At first, he had leaned back on his haunches and swatted at my back, then he had realized whom I was squawking at. A low growl from him had made the Nightmare pause.

I sighed. Toothless was so crouched over that when I raised my head, it rubbed against his neck. That seemed to calm him.

Astrid groaned. "Hiccup, let's try not to start a fight between the dragons."

I glared at her, offended.

Meanwhile, Snotlout marched up to a curious Hookfang and tried to pull her away, upset that I had usurped him. Not that Hookfang usually listened to him anyways. Take now, for instance: a gust of wind was buffeting Ruffnut's hair, and Hookfang was amazed by the swaying.

"So," Fishlegs said, "is he an actual dragon whisperer now?"

Everybody, and I mean everybody, stared at me. As much as I would have liked to say no, I tilted my paw side to side in a _kind of_ fashion.

Which everyone immediately took to mean _absolutely!_ Tuffnut barged forward, throwing Ruffnut aside, and asked, "Who does Barf and Belch like more? Me or Ruffnut?"

"Uh, me, obviously!" his sister said. "What kind of stupid question is that?"

"One that you just got wrong," Tuffnut said. He lurched toward her, and the horns on their helmets smashed together.

"Oh, yeah? You tell him, Hiccup!" Ruffnut said.

I looked at Astrid.

She strode forward. She put a hand on both of the twin's helmets and pushed them apart. "Okay, that's enough. No one's going to bother Hiccup about this, got it?"

"That's no fair," Tuffnut complained. "You're just going to ask him when you two are _alone_."

Snotlout suddenly snickered. "Hey, do you two still kiss, or do you just lick each other now?"

Astrid's face went red as they all giggled. She could put up with a lot of things, but our love life was one of the things that would always get a rise out of her.

She spat, "Either of those is still better than making out with _my pillow_."

That shut Snotlout up. He said, "I told you, I was half-asleep. I thought it was a hot girl!"

"Sure you did," Ruffnut said, stretching out the first word.

"A _really_ hot girl!"

"Nobody cares," Astrid said. "Come on, Hiccup. Let's get out of here."

Oh, yes. I was in. I trotted – jogged, I guess – at her heels, and Toothless followed the both of us.

"So, now what?" Astrid asked me.

I licked my lips. _Breakfast_?

"You haven't . . ." She trailed off. "I guess you can't cook anymore. I'll get you something."

She carefully avoided the f-word. Toothless knew some Norse words, including: _Hiccup_, _Dad_, _fly_, _fire_, _Astrid_, _fish_ and _food_. Which one of those last two was the f-word? Both, technically. They meant the same thing to Toothless, and once he latched onto the promise of a fish, good luck getting him to think of anything else. Even if the dragons had access to all the fish they could eat outside, it apparently tasted much better when it came directly from a Viking's hand.

But anyways, even though he had already eaten, once we were in Astrd's house, she tossed Toothless a couple of herring anyways. Mostly for a distraction. If he didn't get anything, Toothless might insist on sharing my food.

"Here." She slammed down a plate with bread and cheese in front of me, waking Stormfly who had been sleeping in the corner. The small meal was fine with me. What was a normal portion to her had morphed into a gigantic portion for me, so I didn't need more.

Toothless warbled. He put his head on the table and stared at my food.

"Not for you," I told him, even though I knew he wasn't interested. He ate fish, meat if he couldn't get fish, and the occasional bit of vegetation (nine times out of ten, when he ate something that wasn't protein, it was because I was eating it, too). Grain and dairy however, did not appeal to him.

He lashed out suddenly. Right when I had opened my mouth, he pushed my plate away.

"Astrid, don't encourage him," I said as she laughed. Toothless had moved it far enough away that I had to leap on the tabletop to get it. Stormfly keened as I did so; no doubt, Astrid had told her many times that dragons weren't allowed on the table.

Toothless pushed it away again. When I glared at him, the plates on his head stuck out. Something in his scent turned sour.

I pounced. Toothless pushed the plate out of my way again, and then hooked a claw underneath the edge. He flipped it. The bread and cheese flew into the air and plummeted to the ground, where Stormfly charged and began an abrupt game of keep-away.

"Toothless!" The sight of a charging, shouting Astrid shooed Toothless away from the table. "Stormfly, leave that alone!"

She scooped the food up and deposited it back on the plate. Also fine with me. We Vikings didn't care much for hygiene.

When she set the plate down, Toothless popped up right beside me. His plates flapped.

"Toothless . . ." He complained and dug in his claws as Astrid shoved him away from the table, and Astrid eventually recruited Stormfly to help her. Although the Nadder helped Astrid, Stormfly seemed confused as to why.

So I ate quickly (by which, I meant I tore pieces off and swallowed them. Chewing wasn't working out for me). No need to drag this out any longer than I had to.

"There. Done." I barked at Astrid.

Hearing that for what it was, Astrid released Toothless. He scampered up to me, and licked my face.

"Love you, too, bud."

Toothless snuffled. His snout rubbed against my scales as he kept licking.

"Okay . . ." I backed away. "I have no idea what's up with you."

Astrid picked me up, saving me from Toothless's greedy tongue. She looked just as confused as me.

I thought at first that it was her sweet scent or my close proximity to her that made my stomach twist. But then the pain got worse; it was like something was bubbling up inside my stomach, and the pressure inside was threatening to rupture the organ. I wheezed. My saliva became thin.

Oh no. Not here. Not while Astrid was holding me. She was unprepared for me to thrash, so I got loose easily and staggered outside –

The barely-digested contents of my stomach splattered onto the grass.

"Hiccup!" Astrid grabbed me, pressing the back of her hand against my forehead. "Are you sick?"

I didn't know. My stomach was apparently playing host to some tap-dancing giants with spikes in their shoes, but otherwise I felt okay.

Toothless waddled over. He plopped down, tilted his chin slightly downward, and gave me a look I needed no manual to translate: _Told you so_.

Maybe Toothless's aversion to grains and dairy wasn't just a personal preference.

After spitting out a last mouthful of bile, I scratched into the dirt: _Can't eat._

Astrid scrunched up her nose. "Do you have the flu?"

I shook my head. _Can't digest_.

"Oh." Her voice reflected her understanding. "Then, did you want something else?"

I thought about it. I nodded.

"Okay, I can grab you a fish –"

Toothless's head shot up. His tongue slapped against the side of his mouth, and then slid over his lower lip.

"I already gave you some," Astrid said, trying her best to ignore Toothless's excited panting, and the way he circled her legs. "You can come along, but this is for Hiccup."

As she started walking, Toothless nudged me, as if to say: _look, we're getting fish!_

Both Toothless and a tagalong Stormfly ended up badgering Astrid enough to get a herring. She originally tried giving me a larger fish, but thought better of it when it became apparent the fish was nearly the size of me. Not even a teenage boy could force that much down his throat. So, I got a roasted herring, to Toothless's approval.

"Eat up!" Astrid downed a mug of mead. She had earlier made a motion as if to pour me some, but luckily, common sense had caught up to us both.

My mouth snapped close on the fish. Okay . . . now what? I had thought I could eat this fish the same way I would if I were still human, but that wasn't working. See, dragon jaws didn't move the way ours did. There wasn't enough side-to-side movement to grind food. Nor did they have the flat teeth required for that. And as I had discovered with the bread, they couldn't really chew. Which is why, in my haste to ground the herring into a manageable pulp, it fell out of my mouth. Twice. Astrid just watched me with pity.

Toothless hadn't eaten his yet. He had been too busy watching. But now he poked me, then very deliberately picked his up. He threw his head back, bobbed it a couple times more to get the fish in proper position, and then slurped it down.

I got it. I knew what he was doing. Well, here goes . . .

I bit down on the fish's tail, threw my head back –

It slipped from my grasp, and tumbled head-over-heels onto my tail.

Stupid fish.

The second time was more successful. I _knew_ it was in the proper place; my throat had even begun to loosen in preparation for a fish sliding down. All I had to do was swallow . . .

Easier said than done. The human side of me very much objected to stuffing a solid object down my throat - choking hazards and all that. At the same time, hunger prevented me from letting go. I was stuck.

Toothless glanced over. He roughly started licking the underside of my throat, and before I could make sense of it, I reflexively swallowed.

_Gah_. I shuddered. That felt weird.

And I would only have to do it a _billion_ more times. I tried not to pity myself, but Astrid had scrunched up made a noise of disgust, and from there, it was inevitable.

"It could be worse," she said. "You could be a raven, and stuck eating carrion . . . We should probably tell your dad about this. He'll need to know if you're not going to starve . . . Hiccup, he can't be _that_ bad a cook."

I gagged and stuck my tongue out. Astrid had _no_ idea. Dad at the cooking fire was like pre-Toothless me in a dragon raid: disaster. He'd start off okay, but then he'd reach the point where he had to wait, and get distracted by chiefly duties, or talking or whatever he deemed important at the moment. Meaning he overcooked _everything_. Then he made me eat it anyways, claiming it kept us tough.

She patted my head. "You could try Fishlegs. He'd love to have another dragon to cook for."

I nodded. That sounded good. It was well known around Berk that Fishlegs wanted to become the first chef for dragons . . . if he could get any customers. Meatlug ate his food, of course, and she seemed to love it, but the other dragons tended to avoid him at meals. Probably because Fishlegs's idea of finding customers was to run around shouting and chasing them.

On the walk there, I tried to keep up, but for every step Astrid took, I had to take five or six. And I was barely walking; it was more like hopping, if anything. Either way, it got some odd looks. Although those looks may have had nothing to do with my walking-hopping and everything to do with the chief's son becoming a dragon.

Just as Astrid had predicted, Fishlegs was delighted. He started asking all sorts of questions, like whether I liked my food spicy, or if I was partial to raw fish. Yes to the first, no to the second. I was a dragon, but I wasn't _really_ a dragon.

"This is awesome! I can finally figure out why nobody will listen to Meatlug! I mean we've tried to get the other dragons interested, but all they want is their raw fish." Fishlegs made a face. "You'll tell them about my food, right, Hiccup?"

Sure, sure. As long as it kept me away from Dad's well-intended cooking.

Meanwhile, Toothless was hopping up and down, having heard the f-word twice. He glanced from Fishlegs to me, wriggling in excitement.

"Oh, I can make you both something right now!" Fishlegs was practically bouncing in anticipation. Meatlug, seeing her rider's excitement, panted. "Just give me a few minutes."

He ran into the house. Toothless looked at me and smiled.

Looks like someone was having a great day.

* * *

**Review Response:**

**havic: Yes and no. While Toothless does recognize that Hiccup is now a Night Fury, he still foremost identifies Hiccup as his Viking. So, while there are changes to Toothless's behavior around Hiccup, there hasn't been a full shift in how Toothless sees him. As for your second question, I don't know myself.**

**Guest: Thanks!**

**Jazz: That I am XD**

**I imagine it's both the fact HTTYD2 was recently released, and that nothing from KH has been released for a while. People are bored without new material in KH to draw from, so they naturally delve into other fandoms that do have new material. Plus, I think the HTTYD fandom is just more active than the KH one in general.**

**Snowflake: Pretty much, yes :)**

**Charm Caster1127: And unlike Hiccup, it would be on purpose!**

**a random person: He's mostly "mumbling", as I call it. It's gibberish to the other dragons. If you want something more solid, in my head, he's making sounds similar to a baby bear.**

**dragon lifespan: That's good. I had assumed at first that people wouldn't like the ambiguity, but obviously I'm wrong here :) **

**I don't know if Valka's ever seen a Night Fury. She definitely hasn't seen any recently, if her comment about Toothless (maybe) being the last Night Fury is anything to go by... But ANYWAYS, that's a fair point about the lifespan. I would even suggest that if you want to go super-realistic, it might be better to base dragon lifespans off avian ones instead of reptiles, since dragons seem to have an active and competitive lifestyle closer to birds than reptiles [I, on the other hand, enjoy using the suspension of disbelief that most people have regarding dragons ;) ]. For crocodiles, I don't know that off the top of my head either, but I do know that snakes only need to eat once a month/week, depending on their species. I don't know if snakes are lazy too, but I think being cold-blooded contributes to that. Speaking of which, what's your take on that? Right now, I'm considering dragons to be warm-blooded, on account of their activity level and the fact that we never see them sunning.**

**Anyways, this AN is getting kind of long, so I'll end it here. Looking forward to hearing from you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Prompt by Colbalt Sunfire.**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"Dad. Hey, Dad! Look what I can do!"

Dad may not have been able to speak dragon, but the way I bounced in front of him got my meaning through. He crouched down, asking a question that rumbled through my ears. I stopped in front of him, opened my mouth wide . . .

_Snck! _My teeth shot out of their gums.

Dad laughed. "Well, that's one thing down."

Toothless peered at me. He unsheathed his teeth as well, and then clicked them. Not to be outdone, I closed my mouth, and then opened it again to reveal my sheathed teeth. Toothless sheathed his.

_Snck! _went my teeth.

_Snck! _went Toothless.

_Snck. _

_Snck. _

_Snck. Snck. Snck . . ._

"Stop it!" Dad reared back up into a standing position. "You two are giving me a headache."

I couldn't resist sheathing my teeth one last time.

Dad sighed fondly. He turned away and walked deeper into the forge, shouting at some villager peeking through the window.

Toothless glanced at me, and then sheathed his teeth.

I hopped around the forge, scrabbling over a drowsy Grump's tail. Toothless followed, pausing to sniff the other dragon. Usually, Toothless wasn't allowed to be in here, not since he had nearly burned the place down while chasing down a beam of light. With my current situation, however, exceptions were made. I think Dad and Gobber thought that having Toothless around would keep them from stepping on me.

With Toothless's help, I hauled myself onto one of the tables in the back. One of my tables, to be exact. I had a couple: one plain table where I mostly worked on my designs (the shelves upon the table were just bursting with them), and an actual workbench where I put my designs to the test. Upon this workbench today, there was what an ignorant person would call a heap of metal and leather. Anybody who had ever fiddled around with inventing, however, or even lent a hand in one of mine, would know better.

I grabbed a corner of the heap, and stretched it out, unraveling the prototype of my wingsuit. At first glance, it looked like some plain armour with random sheets of leather attached to the arms. But when I was done with this, it was going to be my key to joining Toothless in flight. First though, I had to fix it. There were holes in the 'wings' from the last attempt where . . . let's just say Toothless had a mini panic attack.

"So, what do you think?" I asked my companion.

Toothless placed his paws on the tabletop. He licked one of the suit's shoulders, before trying to swallow it.

"Right, bind the wings tighter to the arms," I murmured. Eyes on one of the rips, I reached for my tools –

My stubby, very un-fingerish toes wiggled in front of my face.

"So much for that," I mumbled. Right. The only natural interaction dragons usually had with metal was trying to eat it. That actually disappointed me more than the whole turning-into-a-dragon thing originally did.

We wandered outside. From the ocean came a cool breeze that buffeted my face and making my wings vibrate. The midday heat bore down on me, blocked only by the shadows of a flock of Terrors as they danced in the currents far above. I puffed my chest out. It had been nearly an entire day since I had changed into a dragon, and I wasn't about to spend my entire journey moping.

"Ready . . ." I crouched. My claws braced themselves against the ground, and clacked when I jumped onto stone. My tail followed with a thump; I still barely had any control over it. But I had mastered the art of controlling my teeth. That still left flying and fire-breathing, but I had no idea if I was old enough to do either of those things.

We walked down to the docks. No, there was no real reason why. Toothless apparently just felt like going down there. I think he liked the smell, as he was leaning into the wind, eyes closed.

I peered into the waves. For the first time since my transformation, I really saw me. I could still see my eyes in that face: green, just like Toothless's, but not so slitted. Not so . . . wild. And rather than the pure black colour Toothless had, there were lighter imperfections on my cheeks. Like freckles. I bet if other Night Furies were around, they would call me ugly.

I headed back to land, careful not to fall through the gaps between the planks. Toothless chose to remain on the docks, while keeping one eye on me. Though I was a grown man perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I stayed within eyesight for Toothless's peace of mind.

I scrambled up to the top of a fence post and stopped to admire my claws. In all honestly, I had thought they would be soft, like the child I appeared to be. But they seemed just as hard as any other dragon's claws though, and _strong_. I could literally hang from the fence with nothing but the claws on my front paws.

"Hey, Toothless, can you do this, too?" I strutted down the length of the fence. The friction between the wood and my claws was more than enough to keep me steady –

I only noticed then that my tail had fallen to one side.

Time to jump! As the weight of that extra appendage pulled me down, I launched myself off the fence. Genius, if I do say so myself. I was all prepared for a smooth landing . . .

Except I had forgotten to make sure there was nothing in front of me.

I got my paws up right in time. My claws sunk right into the tree trunk. I waited a few seconds for the tree to explode (because something always went wrong for my friends and me). When that didn't happen, I bravely lifted one paw off the tree. I didn't fall.

"Hey, Toothless, look at me!" Remembering afterwards how to translate that into dragon-speak, I squawked. From the docks, Toothless called back to me with a throaty chuff.

I slapped my loose paw back against the trunk, driving in my claws. Then, I carefully dislodged a back paw. Moved that upward. A branch with a single leaf at the end caught my eye. There was my target.

I didn't even think about what I was doing; I just enjoyed the sensation of getting higher off the ground. I don't know if every dragon had this feeling, but I could physically feel the pulsing space between me and the dirt. And down was heavier. Up was lighter. Better.

I blinked. Not better. Ground was where Berk and Toothless were. That was better. Home.

By this point, I was on a branch. The rapture of climbing had begun to wear off. But I hadn't reached my goal yet, so I drove myself higher, higher . . . I was small enough that even the thinner branches merely bent under my weight.

The leaf was within my sight. I crawled forward, nearly on my belly. The leaf swayed back and forth on its perch.

Suddenly, the branched dipped. _Hard_.

I leapt back just in time. The branch snapped up to its regular position, almost hitting me in the face. Alright, no hunting leaves today. I could deal with that.

It occurred to me: I had to get down.

Sure, no problem. I would have to do the same thing, but in reverse.

And here was where my plans finally went wrong. It was one thing to climb upwards, where you could drive your claws into the wood with all your weight behind it. It was another to go down, where you had to stretch out your legs with barely any bodyweight to support you. In other words, I wasn't going anywhere. I thought about going down headfirst, but I studied my claws, saw how they hooked downward and made the discovery:

Dragon claws, at least young dragon claws, were only meant to climb upwards.

I was trapped.

Okay, don't panic. This is why I kept a giant, flying lizard as a pet.

"Toothless! Toothless, help me! I can't get down."

Toothless looked up at me. He trotted over to the tree, and reared up to stare.

Oh, no. The tailfin. He couldn't fly on his own.

"Okay, never mind. I'll find someone else."

I looked around. Skullcrusher was hanging outside the forge, probably waiting for Dad. Good enough for me.

I squawked. I squawked loud and clear. My voice didn't carry far enough, however. In frustration, I kept squawking and didn't stop, drowning out the sounds of Toothless's curious barks.

The tree shook.

I glanced up at another branch to see a stray Nadder. She stared down at me, head cocked. Before I could try to communicate with her, a Terror popped up next to me.

It slowly dawned on me that dragons were swarming my little tree.

If they couldn't sit in the tree, then they were gathering at the base. The poor tree itself was starting to bow; flakes of bark rained on the ground. And where there were dragons, there came Vikings. Seeing the commotion, much of Berk had decided to go on break and observe the heir-who-was-a-dragon and his sudden entourage. Just perfect.

"Can you help me down?" I asked one of the dragons. I pointed downward with my paw.

They all stared at me. It was terrifying.

"Down. Down! Come on, you have to know what I'm talking about. Me, down. I can't make it any more obvious than that!"

I was right on one part. I _was_ being obvious. But to the Vikings, not the dragons.

"I think he's stuck," I heard someone gasp. Not a horrified gasp, but an _Is this actually happening? _gasp.

I could feel a hundred eyes boring into me. I whined at the Nadder, who stretched out her wings and flapped them.

"I don't know how!" I complained. I had no idea what kind of sounds were actually coming out of my mouth, but it was making the buzz downstairs increase.

"Hiccup?"

I froze. That was Dad's voice.

Odin, help me.

"Hiccup!" Dad shouldered his way through the crowd. "Hiccup, are you okay?"

I uneasily scanned the crowd below me. No one was concerned – of course not. We were dragon-riding _Vikings_. It would take more than a little fall to kill one of us – mostly, they seemed a little bewildered. I could sense they were on a knifepoint, just a nudge away from finding this hysterical.

"Hiccup, what are you doing up there?"

I peered over the branch, and hoped he could see my smile from here.

"Hiccup, are you . . .?" Dad lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. "Are you . . . stuck?"

He just _had_ to say it.

I closed my eyes and nodded.

This was so embarrassing.

When the giggles started, I covered my head with my paws. Which meant I only had my back paws keeping me in the tree. Which would have been perfectly fine, except that another, heavy Nadder tried to land on my branch. The branch nearly went perpendicular to the ground. The Nadder retreated, the branch –

I shrieked as I was thrown into the air.

Something closed around my waist.

"Got you!"

I recognized Astrid's voice. She was sitting on Stormfly, and I was neatly contained within the Nadder's talons.

They lowered me gracefully. I tumbled from Stormfly's talons not-so-gracefully. Once again, I was the center of attention for all the wrong reasons.

When I saw a flash of black, I dove for the safety of Toothless and buried myself against his side. He caught on and enveloped me in his wing, blocking me off from the outside world.

To him, I mumbled, "I'm never coming out again."

* * *

**Review Response:  
**

**Guest: Probably, for the first question. I can't answer the second one.**

**Jazz: Who knows. I mean it's been how many years since KH II...**

**C: Thanks!**

**a random person (#1): Fishlegs isn't bad. He just hasn't figured out how to appeal to dragons.**

**More about adjusting to being a dragon.**

**a random person (#2): Haven't you heard? I'm evil!**

**dragon lifespan: To be fair though, so do fish and most sea turtles. Although I don't know if sea turtles go that far north.**

**I agree: there is a limit. It just so happens that the long lifespan doesn't hit mine XD  
**

**I wouldn't say that Eragon himself is stupid... just that nobody in that entire universe really understands the implications of the magic system. I mean, if the whole risk factor is that you could run out of energy and die, then just add "Unless it would kill me" to the beginning of each sentence. Problem solved! A magic system like that is so easily abused.**

**Thanks! Hiccup is ****mentally ****still 100% Viking , and everyone knows it. I mean, if you think about it, Hiccup already was the bridge between dragon and Viking... now he's even more so!**

**Good point about the similar species. HTTYD 3 perhaps? XD**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Never turned out to be about ten minutes. I swear I meant it to be longer, but black wings absorb heat, and the small space I was hiding – ahem, _resting_ – in heated up quickly. Too quickly for a dragon used to living next to the cold ocean.

Thus, at the ten-minute mark, I crawled out. Thankfully, most of the crowd had grown bored and dispersed. Stormfly and Astrid were still there, the latter with her eyebrows raised. I sullenly stared at the ground.

"I'd promise not to tell them," she said, "but everyone's already heard by now."

I sulked. I sulked even more when Snotlout and Fishlegs came around. Snotlout complained about how the two of them had 'missed all the excitement', but Astrid shut him down pretty quickly.

"Whatever," Snotlout said. "We're supposed to go now, anyways. Are you coming?"

"Sure," I said, "let me just . . ."

I looked back at Toothless, who towered over me.

Oh.

"Give me a second." Astrid adjusted the saddle on Stormfly's back. She climbed on-board, and then finally remembered that I had been sitting in front of her.

She smiled awkwardly. "Sorry, Hiccup. Uh, talk to you later?"

I gave her an exasperated stare.

"Right. See you later."

I nodded. That was better.

The three of them took off into the sky. A few seconds later, shouts rang through the air as the twins and their dragon appeared over the houses and tried to catch up. Toothless watched them go. He turned to me, mouth partially open. The ground trembled as he hopped up and down, tracing out a small circle around me. I knew what this was: it was Toothless's _Let's go flying!_ dance.

"Toothless, I can't," I told him.

He nudged me with his snout. Then he drew back with a confused croon.

"Even if I could work the tailfin, I can't even get the saddle on." My chin fell against the ground. "Until further notice, we're grounded."

Toothless laid down next to me. He laid his head on my back. I had assumed that this spell would only be an inconvenience for me, but I'd forgotten just how intertwined me and Toothless were. Dragons were meant to be in the sky. But, just as I was no longer able to ride dragons, Toothless could no longer fly. Sure, I could get Astrid or even Dad to fly him from time to time, but they weren't me. They couldn't work with Toothless like I could. It would be like taking a dog trained to fight boar and pitting it against a rat. Almost cruel.

"Sorry, bud." I nuzzled him as best as I could. While I had never stopped regretting how I cost Toothless his tailfin, some days were worse than others. Today was one of those days. I mean, when you're faced with a reminder on how your best friend can no longer fly on his own, you get . . .

Wait.

He _could_.

"I got it!"

I meant to jump to my feet, but Toothless had his weight on me, so my tail just flopped up and down.

"Uh, could you let me up?"

Asking politely didn't get anywhere, so I got my point across by clawing the dirt vigorously. Once freed, I shook myself, and then ran to the forge. Toothless followed after a beat.

"Whoa!" Gobber nearly tripped as I darted between his legs, grazing his peg leg. He did fall into the wall when Toothless accidently body-checked him.

"Where is it?" I leapt back onto one of my worktables, and began raiding the shelves above. Scrolls tumbled onto the wood, unravelling themselves and drooping off the table's edges.

"Hiccup?" That was Dad speaking. "What are you doing?"

I tried to explain through a mouthful of parchment, but gave up halfway through. They'd understand once I found what I was looking for.

There it was! I unrolled my scroll of choice, and flattened it out as best as I could. Which involved stretching myself out and laying on top of it.

Dad and Gobber inched closer. Toothless stared at the scroll, too. But unlike the two Vikings, his eyes did not light up with understanding.

"Aye, I remember that," Gobber said. "But didn't the dragon hate it?"

I slammed my paw on the scroll. Yes, Toothless had once rejected the auto-tailfin and the concept of flying alone, but times were different now. I had no idea when this spell would wear off, and I wasn't about to leave Toothless grounded during that entire time.

"Sure, I could whip up another for you," Gobber said.

Dad frowned. "Will he accept it?"

I nodded. Toothless would, even if I had to nail it to him myself.

With that, I left Dad and Gobber in the forge. The auto-tailfin was a delicate machine, so it would take them a while to make. There was no need for me to hang around and get in the way, especially since if I was there, Toothless would be getting in the way, too.

I sat down. "So, now what?"

Toothless sniffed around. A piece of rawhide – some other dragon's toy, no doubt – caught his attention, and he claimed it eagerly. I crept closer. It smelt of leather, and a touch of blood. Didn't seem too disgusting . . .

I pounced. I snapped my jaws shut on the rawhide, and pulled. Toothless immediately sunk down, body rigid. My face tried to smile even as I clung to the rawhide. I tugged and tugged with jerky motions, keeping my eyes fixed on Toothless's face.

He growled playfully. Small furrows formed in the dirt as he dragged me forward. He shook, lightly, but still enough to draw me off-balance. The sudden movement made my wings open.

This was fun. If it wasn't for the fact that I was using my teeth to hold the rawhide, it was like things were perfectly normal. Just a boy and his dragon, having some fun in the sun.

Toothless's eyes narrowed. His head tilted slightly in that way it did when I knew he was really going to shake . . .

Oh.

_Oh_.

And suddenly, hanging on became a matter of life and death. Before I could even consider letting do, I was thrown into the air. My whole body snapped to one side, then reversed direction. And again. And again. Part of me just wanted to let go and get it over with, but the muscles in my jaw had hardened. Like it or not, I was going to hang on.

It was over quickly. The momentum of the shake sent me rolling onto my side. The rawhide slipped out of my mouth.

Toothless leaned toward me. He sniffed.

I rolled belly-up. I laid there, stunned.

Toothless dropped the rawhide on my face.

"Add insult to injury, why don't you?" A spark of energy ran through my blood, lighting it on fire. I whipped into a crouch, and pawed the ground.

He backed up a step as I charged. I went after his forward foot. He moved that out of the way, so I seized his other one instead, remembering just in time to sheathe my teeth. Not that it would have made much of a difference.

Warm air slithered down my back as Toothless picked me up by the wings. I flailed. My tail kept smacking him in the shoulder.

With me still dangling by my wings, Toothless marched to the forge. He peeked his head inside, calling to Dad and Gobber through his mouthful of dragon. The two of them were still bent over my scroll, muttering to each other. I couldn't hear them over the ambient noise and the crackle of flames, but I could tell by a lack of the scent of burning metal that they hadn't started on the tailfin yet.

"What is it?" Dad set down a metal tong as he turned. "Hiccup, what are you doing?"

I squirmed. Believe me, Dad, this was not my idea.

Toothless held me up high. His body wriggled with excitement. When Dad spoke again and mentioned my name in passing, Toothless nodded eagerly.

Gobber laughed. "Well, looks like you caught yourself a baby Hiccup."

I bared my teeth. A moment later, I remembered I had to unsheathe them.

I rocked as Toothless's weight danced from one side to the other. He seemed to be waiting for something, but neither I nor the other two Vikings had any idea what.

"Well, okay," Dad said. "Uh, good boy? You can go now."

Toothless did so happily, head – and me – held high. He set course for a nearby Gronckle.

I curled into a ball, and tried to blend into his scales. Looks like Toothless had decided to play show-and-tell with me. Maybe if I were quiet, no one would notice . . .

When I finally uncurled, Toothless was busy showing me off to a Nightmare, who was cautiously sniffing. I snapped at her, and she drew back. Toothless shook me a little, as if to tell me I was being rude, but he set me down. While he smelt of cold, Nightmares smelt like warmth. Damp, sticky warmth. Like sweat or saliva, though not as pungent as the former.

I slipped past her head (it was bigger than me!) and scampered toward her body. Her head followed me, with her neck curving and nearly going between her front legs. Her claws flexed, adjusting their grip on the ground as her weight shifted. Beside her head, I caught a glimpse of Toothless's green eyes.

I wonder . . . I mean, if anything went wrong, I'm sure Toothless would protect me. I'd seen him take on Nightmares before, like Hookfang way back in the day. I would be safe.

With that in mind, I took a deep breath. Then I pounced on the Nightmare's tail.

It wasn't like biting Toothless. She was _slimy_. Must have been the stuff she used to light herself on fire. So, I spat her tail out pretty quickly, and then focused on scrubbing my tongue.

Both Toothless and the Nightmare gave me a pitying look.

The slime _clung_. It tasted like something had thrown up in my mouth. I had to lick dirt before the taste went away.

"You could have warned me," I complained. I cast the two dragons a sullen glare.

Okay, so new discovery: biting Nightmares was a very, very bad idea. I wonder if anyone would ask questions when they saw that addition to the Book of Dragons. Well, if they did, they would probably assume it was the twins. Or maybe even Fishlegs looking for a new ingredient. Certainly not old, reasonable Hiccup.

Toothless chuffed. He nipped at my tail and then took off, nearly spinning. When I just stared at him, he did his little shrug, and then chased around the Nightmare.

I watched them.

Well, it's not like I had anything better to do.

I ran after them.

* * *

The riders returned at sunset, miserable, exhausted and beaten down. Toothless and I had been waiting for them in the center of Berk, although I was starting to regret that now that I saw their expressions. Whilst Fishlegs just looked like he needed a good nap and the twins like they had been forced to sit through a two hour lecture on making bread, waves of frustration were rolling off Snotlout and Astrid. Astrid, in particular, looked menacing.

Snotlout was first to stomp off. He had his helmet tucked under his arm, and his hair seemed greasy with sweat. His dragon followed after a second, seemingly still in a good mood. Fishlegs and Meatlug left next, both with heads bowed and feet dragging. The twins and their dragon left soon after.

That left Astrid, our dragons and me. Stormfly had already gravitated to a fish buffet. Toothless looked as though he was considering joining her.

Astrid growled under her breath. She dragged a hand through her hair. As the blonde strands rippled, her scent sharpened. And by that I mean it shot straight up my nose and made my proverbial hackles rise. It was still her scent, but too hot – too piercing.

She was angry. I would have been able to tell that without my enhanced sense of smell. Her face was doing that thing where it scrunched up and some of her upper teeth showed. Though part of me instinctively shied away from her anger, I crawled over to her anyways. I stayed close to the ground, with my eyes fixed on her boots. The picture of submissive caution.

It took her a while to notice me. I think she had forgotten I was no longer taller than her. But when she saw me and my subdued manner, she calmed down a little. At least, that's what her sudden deep breaths said.

"I'm sorry, Hiccup." Her fingers worked their way through her hair again. "We looked everywhere in that area, but we couldn't find any trace of where the witch had been. No supplies, no home, _nothing_."

She was upset. That was obvious. Upset over what she perceived as a failure, and even more so over what she perceived as failing me. I wanted to tell her that it wasn't her fault, especially since I shouldn't have turned my back on a known enemy in the first place, but that wasn't exactly happening in my current state. I tried patting her foot, but I don't know if she even felt it.

She exhaled. She glanced at me, and I think it dawned on her that I was kind of getting a neck strain from trying to look at her face. So, she knelt down, and using her knee as support, I stood up. It almost put us at equal height.

"I might be able to chase down a few of the trader's ships," she said. "They might know something about her. If not, there are the other islands . . ."

She waited for my opinion, which I gave her at once: absolutely not. Other islands meant other tribes and few, if any of them, were dragon-friendly. Not yet, at any rate. Dad and I were going to try to force the issue at the Chief Gathering in a few weeks.

"I thought so," she said glumly.

For a moment, we basked in each other's gloom.

. . . And then Toothless dropped by wanting to be scratched.

He purred loudly, and nuzzled Astrid's hand. She rolled her eyes, but obeyed. Toothless savoured it for a minute or so, and then poked me.

"Uh, no thanks," I said.

He got more insistent. Mostly toward Astrid. He was prodding her free hand, and trying to guide it toward me.

"Toothless, I don't think Hiccup likes being scratched." She smiled. Say what you will about Toothless, but he knew how to cheer people up. She very deliberately stared at Toothless, and then reached over to scratch Stormfly, who had joined us, while absently remarking on how it was getting dark.

Technically speaking, that was true. But I was a _Night_ Fury. Lightwise, I didn't notice very much of a difference. What sunlight had vanished had been replaced by stars and torches. There were more of those torches leading away from the center of Berk and lighting up dark passageways, but mostly they were centered here. Once, long ago, there would have been big fires in the watchtowers as well. However, with our former aggressors now safeguarding our village, keeping a lookout wasn't such a necessary task. With the absence of a known foe, those watchtowers often sat empty.

But while it hadn't gotten much darker, the colours had shifted. Shadows were longer, deeper, and those parts of Berk still exposed to light were awash with red from either the waning sun or the torchlights. A darker form of the pink-tinted sky.

I walked her home. Well, I sat on Toothless's back as he walked her home. The sentiment was still the same. Her scent had relaxed, so I think the short walk had done wonders to soothe her anger. The dragons recognized the change, too, and Stormfly swooped in to nuzzle her favourite person.

She did something funny when we reached her house. I could tell that when she turned to me, she had definitely been searching for someone taller. She had leaned forward a bit too, as if to peck my human-self on the cheek. But when no handsome, Viking boyfriend smiled back at her, she blinked rapidly, and then found me. Her smile was real, but sad.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She caressed my cheek. Then, she and Stormfly were gone.

I miss being human.

Home was a pit of embers and light snoring. Okay, fine: _loud_ snoring. Dad was louder than I was, even when I tripped over a bowl in the dark. But that was the only hassle as we made our way to my inviting bed.

It took three tries to get on. And one the third try, I only got the upper half of my body on anything solid. Luckily, my quite impressive claws had buried themselves in the blanket, and I was able to haul the rest of me up.

I had just curled up on the pillow, and begun debating whether to go under the blanket instead, when Toothless decided to join me. I felt my ears flatten.

"Toothless, get off!" I hissed. My shoulder dug into his neck as I shoved.

He stared at me with his head cocked.

"Toothless!" Rearing back, I teetered on my hind legs for a glorious second . . . only to fall right over as my wings opened unevenly. So, with my two pairs of legs making circles in the air, I said, "Toothless, you know dragons aren't allowed on the . . ."

Oh. I understood.

"I don't count," I told him flatly.

But of course, I didn't speak dragon. Still, Toothless understood something about what I was saying, because his pupils suddenly grew huge and he snuggled his chin between his front paws. It was, as I liked to call it, his cute face. Toothless knew that it could work wonders on some of the more emotional Vikings. Not me though. Nope. No way. I knew him much too well to be deceived.

Seriously. It wasn't working.

I pointed to the floor. "Off."

Toothless whined. He glanced up and down the bed, as if pointing out how much room there was now. Before, we could only fit if I was on top of him. Now? Well, his tail still hung over the edge, but there was enough of a gap beside his head that I would be comfortable.

"Off," I repeated.

He slunk off the bed and away into the shadows. Then he was back. Half his green eyes shone at me from above the bed; the other halves were hidden below.

"Toothless."

His ears lifted, indicating he had heard me.

I looked back at Toothless. He was giving me his cute face again.

I sighed. I suppose that with this current situation, I could get away with breaking a couple of rules.

"Alright, come on up."

I patted the bed. Toothless sprang up like a jackrabbit, nearly startling me into falling off. I found a nice spot in-between his shoulder and neck, where the curve fitted my back perfectly.

"Goodnight," I said to him.

He purred, and rubbed his head against mine. It was a sentence I needed no help figuring out:

_I love you_.

And he was gone.

Only for a moment. He had the corner of my blanket in his mouth, and was pulling it toward me. I was just about to thank him, when he spun around, grabbed the opposite corner, and pulled that too. Then another corner. Then the last. And then he went for my pillow. He dropped that not where I was, but on one of the sides.

Then he was gone again.

He returned a few seconds later . . . Dad's blanket in tow.

"Toothless!" I squawked.

Toothless hopped on the bed and happily dragged Dad's blanket with him. He then happily set to arranging his small collection of blankets and a pillow for some reason.

He stopped. I could _feel_ him thinking about Dad's pillow.

"No!" As he made a move to try to snatch it (probably from right under his head, knowing him), I bit down on his tail. That made him pause.

"No," I said slowly. For good measure, I bared my teeth.

He shrugged good-naturedly. Then he started playing with the blankets again. I watched, both with amusement and a bit of irritation as parts flew into the air and blocked me off from the outside.

Which apparently was his intention. When he finally settled down, we were contained within a burrow made of blanket. Oh, and the pillow was against Toothless's back. I pawed at the burrow's 'wall', finding it tougher to budge than I thought.

"Is this a nest?" I asked him.

Toothless chuffed. He nudged me, trying to guide me back toward him. When I allowed myself to be guided, a large wing opened up and then engulfed me.

Despite the coolness of his smell, he was warm. It was like sitting next to a smouldering fire. I was squeezed in against his chest, with one of his legs serving as my new pillow. The other was draped loosely over my neck, like an imitation of a hug. Further up his body was gap that I could have used to escape, and I thought I caught a shadow of him staring at me. Hard to tell though; it was too dark.

For me, the little Night Fury who was actually a Viking, Toothless's smell was distracting. But I got used to it, soon enough, and my brain ceased to notice. I listened to his breathing: deep and strong. I soon matched his pace.

The underside of his chin grazed me. He purred. _I love you_.

I stretched up so that I could rub against him, too, and purred. _I love you, too._

* * *

**Review Responses:**

**Jazz: Hiccup's just very excited. You know him: always curious and experimenting with things. Without his tail, Hiccup is about the size of a Terrible Terror. The tail pretty much doubles his length.**

**random reader WITH a profile: Thanks!**

**Snowflake: I plan to. I just don't know when exactly they'll come in.**

**Randominator Owl: Thank you. Flying is going to be a doozy XD**

**KH stands for Kingdom Hearts. It was the main fandom I wrote for before this one.**

**a random person2: I guess you are! The answer is: in a way. The dragons in this story don't really have a language, more so they have certain gestures and behaviors with meanings and moods attached to them. Flight will come up several times. Toothless would love to have Hiccup flying with him :) For the last question, yes, he can if he has to. I think two chapters ago he did write something in the dirt to Astrid. However, writing with a pencil takes him a long time and he doesn't have any pockets to carry them around, so he prefers to avoid that.**

**dragon lifespan: The villagers and Gobber aren't freaking out because... well they don't really see a reason to. At the end of last chapter, Hiccup hadn't been a dragon for a full day yet. Plus, Hiccup and his friends are always running into problems, but they generally fix those problems pretty quickly (like say... within an episode or two XD). They all think this is another one of those oddities that's going to go away within a few days. It hasn't hit them yet that this could be a long term problem.**

**Stoick is concerned, but he's going with a "Wait and See" approach at the moment and is staying calm for the sake of the village. Hiccup, likewise, hasn't considered this might last a long time, and is partially enthralled by his intellectual curiousity. Toothless doesn't understand Hiccup's transformation wasn't by his will. The other riders are concerned, but they've been expressing/taking it out on each other, not Hiccup. There's a reason that Snotlout and Astrid were so angry when they got back.**

**tldr; Everyone thinks this is a temporary problem that'll go away in a couple of days. Once they realize it might not be, that's when they'll get concerned.**

**Actually, the research I did indicated the opposite: climbing up is much easier than climbing down for a cat. Plus, it doesn't matter whether it's natural for a human, because humans and cats do not climb trees the same way.**

**True, but I give Eragon a pass on that in the first book because from what I remember, he doesn't really know what's going on or have the knowledge to make those kind of decisions. I can't remember the other books though, so no idea if he stayed the same.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Dad woke up earlier than us, so there was no way he didn't notice that his blanket had gone missing, but he hadn't done anything. When I woke up, Toothless and I were still nestled comfortably inside our burrow.

I yawned. My teeth popped out of their sockets, and I sheathed them again one-by-one. My paws kneaded Toothless's chest – a replacement for stretching. That woke the big lug, and he rumbled before lifting his wing off me. Light, stained brown from the blanket, entered our small cavern.

I crawled out and up to his chin. "Good morning."

He chuffed at me. I rubbed against him.

That was it for morning greetings. I was a young, energetic Night Fury, formerly an inquisitive, teenage Viking, and nature demanded that I do something exciting. Or at least get something in my belly. It felt like a bottomless pit right now, and was wailing at me to go hunting. To Fishlegs, it was, then!

Toothless followed at a leisurely pace. Not that he would have had to try very hard to keep up with me, anyways. For every step he took, it took me a couple of bounds to cover the same distance. When he did catch up with me though, I had made some lovely claw marks in Fishleg's door, and was squawking at the top of my lungs. If Fishlegs didn't hear me, then I knew Meatlug would.

When Fishlegs answered, he was still half-asleep. His helmet was hanging half off his head. Blond fuzz dotted his lower jaw; apparently, he was growing a beard to try to impress Ruffnut. Again. Because his attempts worked so well last time. Meatlug was similarly tired, and she didn't walk so much as she dragged herself behind Fishlegs.

I cringed. Looks like I hadn't chosen the best time.

"Sorry." Fishlegs rubbed his eyes. "I was up all night writing a song for Ruffnut . . . Hey, if you want, you can hear it."

I froze. I had no idea how to refuse without being rude.

But that's what dragons were for. When the first note left Fishlegs's mouth, both dragons dropped and clamped their paws over their ears. With a dark blush spreading over his cheeks, Fishlegs mumbled, "Ah, actually I haven't finished it yet. Maybe another time."

Not if I could help it.

Despite his state of half-sleep, Fishlegs still managed to cook something up. It smelt like fish – it was mostly fish – but I could detect garlic as well. There were a few other green things sticking out of the body, too; Fishlegs had cut open the chest and stuffed it, and poured some kind of sauce in to 'season' it. Put frankly, it looked like some animal had torn the fish open, played with the organs, and hadn't eaten any of it. But at least mine was cooked.

I was beginning to reconsider this idea.

"Okay." Fishlegs had his hands together, as if he had just clapped. "It's ready."

I looked around. Meatlug was happily guzzling hers down. Toothless, not so much. He was confused by the plants in what he thought should have been a pure fish.

Well, it couldn't be worse than Dad.

I balanced the fish on my jaw. My tongue ran along the undamaged side. It tasted . . . fishy. Like a normal fish. So, I swallowed. And it was still fishy. But when I ran my tongue against the roof of my mouth, there was something delicious on it. The sauce, or whatever it was that Fishlegs had made.

I licked my plate clean, hunting for any remaining sauce. Toothless had finished his. Unlike me, he didn't look at all impressed. Which surprised me because it hadn't been bad. The sauce was delicious actually, although I wasn't able to taste any of the herbs.

And it hit me. I watched Meatlug, who alone of the dragons, enjoyed Fishlegs's food. Unlike Toothless or any of the other dragons I'd seen, she didn't just swallow her fish. Instead, she stuck her snout in the opening, and then used that to slaughter the sauce all over the fish's body before eating it. So she could taste it. Fishlegs knew enough to leave the fish as intact and whole as possible, but he didn't know enough to realize what part of the fish needed to season.

"Well?" Fishlegs bit his lip nervously. He had parchment and a charcoal pencil in hand, as if I was actually going to speak Norse to him. "What do you think? Need more garlic?"

I signalled that I was the one who actually needed the writing utensils. When he handed them to me, I grabbed the pencil in my mouth (tasted like smoke), and proceeded to write as best as I could. The letters came out huge and loopy; _really_ huge. Two sentences nearly took up an entire page. I was surprised that I hadn't broken though the parchment.

Fishlegs quietly read my initial verdict to himself. Then he looked at me. "Wait, why shouldn't I stuff the fish?"

I wrote: _Dragons can't chew. They only taste the outside._

"Hmm." Fishlegs stroked his chin. He tossed a spare fish at Meatlug and then watched how his dragon swallowed it. Next to me, Toothless huffed, annoyed that he hadn't gotten an extra one, too.

"That's it!" Fishlegs exclaimed. "Oh, thanks, Hiccup. You're a genius!"

He knelt down, put one hand on either side of Meatlug's face, and squeezed gently. "Come on, Meatlug, we've got a lot of experimenting to do!"

Meatlug waddled after her rider as he retreated in preparation for even more cooking. That left Toothless and me alone.

Into the silence, I said, "Uh, bye."

We left. It seemed like it was going to be a good day. The sky was blue, clear except for a couple of white wisps hanging around in the sky. Most of the older Vikings were awake. There was a man saddling up his Nadder not far from us, and a group of kids were playing a game of run-away from a stray Gronckle.

My wings flexed as a breeze hit it. I could faintly see how the membranes bulged, catching the air as if I were aloft. I looked at Toothless, unreasonably excited by my . . .

My joy evaporated.

Oh, Toothless.

He was on his hind legs, wings fully open, walking slowly backwards as he struggled to keep his balance. His eyes were fixed firmly on the sky; the muscles in his chest were braced with the readiness to spring into the air. But his tail . . . his normal tailfin, his natural tailfin, was closed, but the other was open.

"Toothless . . ." I didn't mean to whine, but that's how it came out.

Toothless cocked his head. He dropped back to his feet and trotted up to me, acting as if he hadn't just been wishing he could fly. No, if anyone had been watching, they would have thought I was the one who needed comforting, not him. I moved into him, resting my head against his leg, wishing I knew how to apologize as a dragon. However, all Toothless saw was a despondent little Night Fury (formerly his rider), and he sought to comfort _me_ with a lick.

I turned away. "I'm fine, Toothless."

He clearly didn't think so. He sniffed, trying to use that sense to figure out what had me bothered. And that just made me feel worse.

Trying to distract myself, I muttered, "The tailfin won't be done yet. It's too early. Astrid's probably still sleeping, and I have no idea where Dad is. I don't see any way to get you off the ground . . ."

And apparently, Toothless was just as disturbed by the fact that I was grounded. He tried to pick me up by the wings again, and I responded by sinking to the ground and spreading my wings out flat. Yep, there wasn't much for him to grab now.

Black filled my vision –

And everything went dark.

I squirmed. Warm walls pressed against me on all sides. A moist draft, carrying with it the scent of fish, came from behind me and filled the space like smoke. Blind, I groped for an exit, and even my tail mapped out the area as best it could. It was small, whatever it was.

Part of the wall gave. It split horizontally, and I crawled toward the crack . . .

I poked my head out of Toothless's mouth.

I glared at him. "Really, Toothless? _Really_?"

I suppose that I shouldn't have been too shocked. While I had certainly never seen an adult Night Fury interact with a young one before, I had seen Nightmares and Gronckles carrying their children around in their mouths. The Nightmares would leave their mouths slightly open, and their kids would peek out from between the teeth. Gronckles seemed to use it more as a punishment because they would swallow one kid and then sit there. Toothless seemed to be leaning toward the Nightmare style of things, though.

He seemed to have some kind of destination in mind. Plus, I doubted my chances of wrestling free, so I let him carry me. I scanned his face; my presence made his cheeks puff out, but other than that, having a little dragon in his mouth didn't seem to bother him. Again, not much surprise there. He had once carried around my helmet in his mouth.

He took us home. Exciting, I know. But don't worry: it got better. He walked right up to the door, and then leapt and attached himself to the wall next to it.

". . . Toothless?"

If his laboured breathing and clumsy movements were anything to go by, baby Night Furies were better climbers than grown ones. Toothless kept trying to use his wings - not necessarily to fly and skip the whole process - but just to try and keep himself attached to the wood. His claws didn't seem able to grasp the wood as well as mine; his weight kept tearing them out and kept him scrabbling for a hold. But we got up. Eventually. In about three times the amount of time it would have taken me.

His jaws loosened, inviting me to walk on my own feet again. I took that offer very happily, thank you. Please ignore that I am now covered in drool.

"Okay, we're here. Now what?"

Toothless chirped. At the fore of our house, a wooden dragonhead protruded out into empty air. Toothless perched on the nose of that, wings half-raised. With a jerk of his chin, he ordered me to follow. Easy. The wooden dragon was more than wide enough for me to walk down.

A shadow passed over us as a bird darted through the sky. Toothless dug his claws in, and opened his wings wide. I crawled underneath one, coming to a stop just beyond his left foot.

He squawked. (Hah, I knew the meaning of that!) The wings spread even further, until his very bones seem to be trembling with the effort. His front claws dislodged from the wood; they rose too, even as he checked whether I was paying attention.

He jumped.

His one real tailfin snapped open. The other rattled, flicking back and forth indecisively before settling on closed. In the few seconds that took, Toothless picked up speed. A _lot_ of speed. Too much, I knew, for a dragon looking to land.

The uneven tail made his right side pitch up. His wings splayed oddly, trying to keep him level. It lasted about three seconds. Not because he rolled over or anything. But because he landed. Crashed. Whatever. At least he got his feet under him this time.

He shook himself and shuddered. That should have been the end of this little excursion, but then he had the gall to look back at me and call _me_ down.

I backed away from the edge. "Nope. Not happening."

Toothless cocked his head. He sprung at the walls and started to climb.

There was no way this was going to end well.

"No. Oh, no. You stay back!" I reared up and hissed. Actually, I spluttered a little bit. The splutter ended quickly because my lips caught on my tongue. Fearless as ever, Toothless walked right up to me. He stared at me, then out into the empty air beyond the wooden dragon's head, and chirped.

_Go,_ he was saying.

I shook my head. Not on my life.

Toothless was not amused.

And he decided to express that by grabbing my tail.

I flinched. What was he –?

He flung me_ into the air_.

"_Toooooothless_!"

It didn't even occur to me to open my wings, but the air caught their corners and pried them from my sides. My tailfin was already open. Not like that meant anything because I had _no idea_ how to steer. I somersaulted through the air, like a typhoomerang closing in for the attack.

I hit the ground tail-first, followed by the rest of me. A disorienting tremor went through my body, but other than that, I think I was okay. Let me just check . . . yep, tail's not broken. Wings? Check. Legs? Sore, but working.

I laid there, listening to my own heartbeat.

Toothless crashed behind me.

"Serves you right," I grumbled. Of course, Toothless was all smiles. He actually wanted to climb up again.

"No," I told him firmly.

He stared at me.

He started to open his mouth . . .

"No! I said no, Toothless!"

With Toothless hot on my heels, I ran.

* * *

**Review Responses:**

**Guest: Request granted! Thanks.**

**Jazz: It would have been hilarious. :) This takes place after Gift of the Night Fury, which is why Gobber and Stoick were commenting on how Toothless rejected it last time.**

**A Random Person: Okay, this week you are the only random person. Flying will be an ongoing arc. He won't really get the hang of it until later, despite Toothless's best efforts :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Oi! Looks like someone's been having a bit of fun."

The look I gave Gobber could have wilted a flower. My chase with Toothless had ended in a mud puddle – great for me, because Toothless's weight meant that he stuck and couldn't keep up; but also terrible for me, because now my lower half was covered in mud. Especially my tail. I was sure there were at least a couple of lumps attached to it.

In his good hand, Gobber held a pair of metal tongs, which he clicked together as he asked, "Now, where's your dragon at?"

A good question. Toothless was nearby, for sure. I could _feel _it. When I looked around though, I couldn't see any sign of green eyes.

But I was a dragon now . . .

I took a deep breath. Air flowed through my nostrils, and my brain set to work, splitting each scent from the rest like a weaver carefully unwinding one thread from the spool. I tasted Gobber and the forge, the sweat of my father from inside the forge, mud, and a rainstorm that appeared to be on its way. And, I tasted Night Fury.

There he was. He was lurking under a cart, sneaking up on me. As not to alarm my stealthy dragon friend, I flicked my ears in his direction, alerting Gobber to his presence. Gobber grinned.

"Alright then." He casually moved back into the forge. "If he isn't around . . ."

Right when Gobber vanished from sight, Toothless sprung. He ate up the distance in bounds, eyes firmly on his prey, aka me. He had no idea Gobber was waiting just inside the forge, counting down the seconds . . .

"Got you!"

Gobber's weight flattened Toothless to the ground. But only for a moment, as one measly Viking was no match for the will of a majestic Night Fury. Toothless bucked, tossing Gobber to the side, and then pounced on him instead of me. So all in all, this was a good situation for me.

"Alright! Let me up, you smelly lizard." When Toothless ignored him and began an impromptu game of tug-of-war with Gobber's bad hand, Gobber looked at me for help.

I marched over and whacked Toothless on the snout. He snorted, but let Gobber pull the now-slimy hook free.

"Great, now keep him still." He hollered into the forge, "Stoick, your boy and Toothless are here."

Hauling the auto-tailfin behind him, Dad said, "Good."

Like most beings, Toothless was a creature of habit. He had his favourite sleeping place, his favourite saddle, and – of course – his favourite people. He also had his favourite tailfin, which meant that he did not appreciate our attempts to replace it. Dad had to grab his head and pin it, much like they had long ago when he had captured Toothless in the ring. Even that didn't stop Toothless from lashing his tail violently, doing his best to keep it away from Gobber's grasp.

"Almost got it . . . Just stay still . . . Ow! Going to feel that one in the morning."

Toothless growled. His claws tore at the ground.

"Stop your complaining." With one last tug, Gobber removed the old tailfin. Toothless shuddered. Maybe he felt naked without it.

His tail started lashing again. This time, he caught Gobber in the chest, sending him to his knees.

"Okay, that's enough." I barked and then sat on Toothless's tail, making him hesitate. As much as Toothless wanted his old tailfin, I knew that it wasn't enough for him to whip me against a wall. Either way, that gave Gobber enough time to recapture the tail.

"Just one more twist . . . ah, there we go!"

The second he was released, Toothless ran. Only for a little bit. Then he stopped to glare at us, huffing.

"Toothless!" I bounded up to him. He seemed undecided about whether he was mad at me, too. "Look, the tailfin! You remember this, don't you?"

At my urging, he curved his tail so that he could examine it. He held the tip aloft, watching as his artificial tailfin opened and closed in time with his natural one. He swayed; his tailfin seemed to reach out and caress the air. It was red, this one, the same shade as his usual one; and I could see that Gobber had added his own personal touch of a picture of a giant dragon about to gobble up a Viking.

"Go on, fly! Fly!" Normally, I would have pushed Toothless or something. That wasn't so practical in this form, so I tackled him instead.

_Snap_! Two black wings shot open. With one leap, he was airborne. The red tailfin expanded behind him. The edges rippled, and then I saw no more as he veered upwards, soaring into the sky where he belonged.

"Yes, go!" I clambered up to the top of a fence post, standing on my hind legs as I tracked his silhouette against a perfect sky.

He went higher, higher, until he was nothing more than a dot. And then he came down. His wings were folded neatly at his side as he nudged himself into a spin. The wings opened then, and he twirled and twirled in a ribbon of black.

He passed over a house, so close that if he had reached, he could have clawed the roof. He wound his way past a chimney, and then dipped even further so that he could pass over the fence right next to me. The structure quivered from his wake, and I dug in my claws.

His next turn was nearly vertical, up the side of a house, where he startled some poor Viking who had been leaning on her windowsill. She peeked after him, and her mouth opened in what must have been awe. Everyone had seen dragons show off before; I'm pretty sure everyone had even seen Toothless and I showing off. But that didn't matter, because there was a majesty to the Night Fury, a freshness that never quite died. Even if he didn't mean to show off and he was just testing the tailfin, Toothless was a sight to see. I only wished that I could be up there with him.

He came down again, looping backward before settling into a fall. The tailfin stayed open behind him, red flashing like a flag. Unlike last time, this dive was leisurely – at least for a Night Fury. It was slow enough that when he got closer, I could actually see his eyes.

He circled around me before taking a precarious perch on the fence, too. At least he tried. He was _way_ too big though, so he just ended up with his front paws on the fence.

"So, how was it?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

He purred. Now would normally have been the time that we cuddled a bit, but since I was lacking hands, I just nuzzled him under the chin instead.

"So, it works."

Dad and Gobber were still here. I had completely forgotten. Actually, quite a few Vikings had gathered to watch Toothless's flight; most of the adults appeared to have been dragged out by their children. They were leaving now, though, since the show was over. A couple of kids approached Toothless, who sniffed them but otherwise, wasn't that interested.

Dad walked over. He ran his fingers over the bone in Toothless's tail as he inspected the tailfin for damages. So far, so good. It had held up under Toothless's rigorous test.

"Seems like you're good to go." With a splash of dust, the tail fell back down. To me, Dad said, "I'll be in the forge."

I purred thanks to him. Dad gave me a weird look, but he didn't say anything.

_Thump! Thump!_ Toothless performed his _Let's go flying! _dance around me, going over the fence and back again. His upper half bobbed up and down; his paws tapped out a catchy rhythm on the ground.

"You have wings," I told him. "You go."

Toothless snuffled. Smooth scales stroked the underside of my wing as he grabbed it and gently tugged it open. With one claw, he poked at the other one. With a sigh, I let them unravel, faintly aware that my tailfin opened as I did so.

"Toothless, I can't fly."

_Thump!_

"No, really, I can't. I know I might have wings and an uncomfortably long tail, but this up here," I tapped my forehead, "is raw Viking."

His dancing grew faster and louder._ Flying. Now!_

Looks like someone wouldn't take no for an answer. When the opportunity arose, I pounced onto Toothless's back, and sat in the same place I would have had he been wearing his saddle.

At his surprised stare, I said, "Well, you wanted to go flying."

It was different, sitting on him like this. It felt like there was a lot less friction. A _lot_ less. Even with Toothless sitting still, I still worried in the back of my mind that I would slip off. Sure, I had awesome claws that could easily keep me in place, but tearing up my best friend's back didn't exactly appeal to me. Speaking of these claws, I wasn't sure what to do with them. Did I just sit on them normally, and hope they wouldn't accidentally scratch Toothless? Or did I try to go the uncomfortable route of curling back toward me, and risk slicing myself open instead? Decisions.

A chord of muscles shifted under me. That was another difference. Contrary to what his adorable and playful behaviour would suggest, Toothless had a very powerful and lithe body. Poke anywhere, and all you would get was hard muscle. It kind of felt like sitting on a rock. A moving, breathing rock. But a rock, nevertheless, and a warm one, at that. Between my own body heat and clothes, Toothless's heat and the sun, I had never been cold during flight, but there was something more intimate about skin-to-skin contact.

Just when I started thinking this might be a bad idea, he took off.

So much for not clawing him. When I felt him slipping under me, I instinctively tried to cling. Thankfully, those scales were thicker than they looked.

We went high. It was like sailing in a storm; his body pitched up and down as each wingbeat echoed through it. Only my front paws, hooked around the spot where his wings and shoulders met, kept me from falling.

When I looked down, something heavy dropped into my stomach. Foreboding or fear, I think. I had never been scared of heights – I couldn't be, not as a dragon rider. But riding a dragon while strapped into a saddle was _very_ different than sitting bareback on one in a body that wasn't yours to begin with.

I flattened myself against him. All the wind was only adding fuel to the fire. Toothless had rounded out into a glide, just enjoying the sights. I would have, too, but we were really high, and I wasn't at all happy with that. No seriously. I wasn't.

I think he had always rocked when he flew. I just had been too big before to notice. Now, with me being as small and as flat as I was, I noticed. It was like a boat in a calm stream; like a cradle. Comforting. I closed my eyes, pretended I was on ground, and let that soothe me.

Toothless chirped. I opened my eyes. I didn't see anything different. We were still circling Berk, and the sky was calm. A Nightmare weaved through the space below us, but he was quickly gone.

Toothless chirped again. Jerked his chin up, pointing at something. But ahead of us, all I saw was empty sky. I thought back to the last time he had chirped . . .

Oh.

He chirped again. _Go. Fly._

"No." I shook my head so hard he must have felt me vibrating. "There is no way I'm going out there."

Nothing happened for a few seconds.

Then he flipped over.

I screamed. My wings fluttered uselessly, catching the air at random moments and sending me spinning in one direction or another. It was like being caught in a rapids filled with invisible rocks, just as violent and hard to breathe. Air seemed to be sucked right out of my mouth, as if I were literally moving too fast for my lungs to swallow it.

Black filled my vision. Toothless was calmly falling beside me, his head closest to the ground and slightly cocked to one side, as if he were asking what I was so freaked out about.

"Toothless, help!" That's what I tried to scream, but some wild noise came out of my mouth. Whatever it was, it got his attention. Green eyes widened, and he reached out for me.

The first attempt, my paw slide over his scales. Second, our claws locked for a beat, and then parted. The third, fourth, and fifth attempt pretty much all happened at the same time. Each miss made my pulse race a little faster, and though it couldn't have been more than five seconds, I was sure I was about to become a splat on the ground.

I whined. It was the only sound I could make. My chest had tightened, squeezing out what little air my lungs had scavenged. I couldn't grab his paw, and Toothless didn't seem to understand that. He thrust it at me again, actually touching my neck.

Panicking, not at all thinking, I bit it.

I think . . . I think that's what he actually wanted. Even with fear lacing my bite and making it strong, I didn't draw blood. He pulled me toward him, and wrapped his other paw around my abdomen.

We levelled out. Intellectually, I knew we were slowing; but I didn't feel it. We were still falling way, way too fast. But Toothless was here. He wouldn't let anything happen to -

He was _letting go_.

I tried to cling to his leg, but Toothless had already yanked his paw out of my mouth, and there was nothing binding me to him. I picked up speed, drawing further away . . .

But he reached out again, and hooked his claws under my wingjoints. The claws ran along the bone, forcing them to open.

"Toothless!"

For a brief moment, his snout was buried in the back of my neck. _It's okay_, he was saying. _I'm here_.

One paw fiddled with my tail. The other was around my chest now, keeping me from flipping over. I took deep, steady breaths.

One.

Two.

He let go.

It was actually fear that kept me upright. I was so nervous, that I went rigid; my tail went out straight behind me, and my wings remained fully extended.

Time ticked by.

I finally realized that I was in control.

It wasn't quite flying. Just gliding. But I was no longer hurdling toward the ground. Toothless was right beside me, tailfins open wide like his wings. A glance over my shoulder told me that my body looked the same.

"Hey! Look at me!" I squawked. I faintly heard Toothless purr.

We soared over Berk and toward the docks, and I stretched my wings even further, wanting every inch of me to be a part of this. We weren't that high above the village; anyone standing on a roof could have thrown a rock and hit me. We were close enough that I could see people going about their daily business. One villager was trying to pull her rug away from a hungry pig; a pair – the twins, I think – were stalking Fishlegs from an alleyway. Above Berk, it smelt a lot like smoke, even though I could barely see any. There were a lot of gentler scents as well: wood, boiling meat, roasted fish . . .

As we approached the docks, and dropped below the level of Berk's roofs, I felt disappointed. I wasn't ready to land yet; I could still wrestle a few more seconds of flight. So, I dipped. I rotated my body so that my wings no longer lay parallel to the ground. I knew this was how Toothless turned; next to me, he nodded in approval.

It was like running and suddenly hitting a patch of ice. I had tilted further, eager to turn quickly so I could get back to flying, when I . . . slipped, for lack of a better word. My tail fell through the sky; my wings, used to the air pushing against them, crumbled.

I was falling. Again.

"Watch out -!"

Cold slapped me in the face. The impact vibrated through me like a stricken bell. The world was dark, freezing cold, and gleamed with a few rays of light that cut their way downward before fading into darkness.

When my lungs burned, I realized I was underwater. I kicked for the surface. My wings, hanging down loosely, acted like anchors and dragged me down.

No. _No_! A sour taste filled my mouth. I wasn't going to drown here. But for every two inches of progress I made, my wings dragged me down another inch.

A dark shadow emerged from underneath me.

My head burst through the waves. I gasped for breath, panting as I clung to Toothless's back. He was paddling steadily toward the docks, wings spread over the water, almost using it as a floatation device. When we reached one of the dock's wooden pillars, he climbed up it, dragging me along.

I shook myself. I moved into the sunlight. There, that was better. Toothless sniffed me. He licked my neck as he, in his own way, checked that I was okay.

"I'm fine," I rasped. "Just a little tired."

We sat in silence, recovering. Above us, a rider left Berk on their Nadder. I knew that soon enough, I would be up there again.

The only question was whether it would be as the rider, or a dragon.

* * *

**Review Responses: **

**havic: Heh, maybe he is. I did write this after the whole papa!Toothless in Dreki Kyn, so it might be a carryover :)**

**Jazz: And how was flying lesson number two? XD Hiccup will be working on it for a while. Flying ain't easy ;)**

**Thanks! I personally think that giving dragons a verbal language brings them too close to human intelligence, to the point where it gets awkward hearing the Vikings refer to them as pets. Plus, it's just more fun for me this way!**

**a random person: Not a *high* cliff. Small is fair game :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Ah . . . _Ah-choo_!"

Seated at my bedside, Astrid smiled. Her callused fingers stroked my back with enough pressure that it felt like she was trying to press my spine flat. Unlike my current, miserable mood, she was in good spirits. Her body was relaxed, and a light smile graced her face. With the sunlight coming in through the window and making her hair glow, she was absolutely radiant. Had I been human, I would have told her that. Actually, even as a dragon, I probably would have tried to say that, too. But, like I said, I was currently in a miserable mood.

I sneezed. Astrid's smile grew brighter. As she had happily informed me earlier, my sneezes sounded like a baby having hiccups. She enjoyed it. I didn't. Firstly, because each sneeze inevitably shook my body, and secondly, I was _sick_!

"Shouldn't have taken that dive into the ocean," she said playfully. Yep, Toothless and I hadn't been spotted gliding over Berk, but we had been seen dripping on the docks. Everyone thought we had gone for a swim.

I glared at her. She adjusted the blanket, scooping part of it under my chin so that it acted like a pillow. Another strip was draped across my lower half, although I could tell that my tail was sticking out.

On the floor next to Astrid, Toothless rolled over onto his back. His tongue hung out of his mouth, flopping toward the ground.

I sniffled. It felt like there was a web inside me, doing its best to block my lungs. My nose didn't seem too clogged, but I couldn't smell things the way I should be able to, and there was a crust around my nostrils. Mostly though, I was tired. I wanted to go back to sleep and never wake up.

"Do you want some more stew?" Astrid asked. "It'll make you feel better."

I thought about it, and then said no.

"Alright." She stroked my back again. "Maybe later."

I complained loudly about my condition. Astrid just absently rubbed Toothless's belly. He chuffed, tail thumping against my bed.

"Toothless, I'm trying to sleep here," I said lazily. "Go be adorable somewhere else."

The bed rocked as Toothless rolled into it.

My door opened. Heavy footsteps, the heavy footsteps of a certain Viking Chief, traced a path to my bed. A wide, shaggy shadow fell over me.

"How are you?" Dad asked.

I stuck my tongue out. I _hated_ being confined like this.

Dad looked at Astrid. She told him, "I think it's just a cold. Nothing serious."

"Are you sure it has nothing to do with . . . this." He gestured to all of me.

My ears perked up. That . . . that was a possibility I hadn't considered. I mean it _felt_ like a normal cold. I think. Actually, I might have been feeling a little too drained for it to be just a regular illness . . . and now that I thought about it, maybe I did have a fever.

"I . . ." Astrid bit her lower lip. "I don't think so. Hiccup?"

I didn't know either. I think it was a cold, but what if it wasn't?

"Hiccup?"

I thought quickly. We couldn't tell. Who would know . . .?

Got it!

My claws drummed against the bed's wooden frame as I tried to deliver my suggestion. When they both stared at me, I traced an 'F' in the air.

"Oh!" Astrid snapped her fingers. "Fishlegs. He is our walking Dragon Manual."

I nodded.

Astrid left to fetch him, leaving me with Dad and Toothless.

"How are you really?" Dad asked.

I patted his hand, telling him I would be okay. Honestly, I almost smiled at Dad's question. I guess he didn't know, but if I wasn't actually feeling well, I was more likely to tell Astrid than him. Nothing worse than a fretting, bumbling father.

"I'm not just asking about your sickness," Dad said.

I shrugged. Yes, I know. I was a dragon. It was kind of hard to miss. But, there wasn't much I could do about it, so I was coping. Would have been better if I wasn't stuck in here, though.

"Do you need anything?" (I shook my head no) "Are you hungry?" (I shook my head _NO_)

"Well . . ." Dad leaned back on his heels. It was killing him to be helpless. He was a Viking Chief, used to running around and fixing everyone's problems, whether with an axe or a stern lecture. He hated being idle; that much, I had inherited from him.

Astrid returned with Fishlegs. I suddenly found myself the center of a rigorous physical examination. Odin only knew what Fishlegs was looking for when he yanked out my tongue or handled my wings.

His final verdict?

"I think it's just a cold."

A sigh rolled through the room. Dad grunted, "Well, if you're sure . . ."

Fishlegs said, "There is a teensy chance that it –"

I bit him, effectively silencing him.

As Fishlegs rubbed the bite with his shirt, screaming about how he was contaminated, Astrid said, "You know, Ruffnut's dragon was sick once. She told me that he seemed to feel better when they left him out in the sun."

I looked at Dad hopefully. Please say yes!

"They are reptiles," she pointed out.

"Alright. Just," he rubbed his forehead, "keep him out of sight. The village doesn't need to know he's sick on top of everything else."

"Sure thing, Chief." She wrapped me in a cocoon of blanket, and then stood. "We'll be behind the Great Hall."

A few people noticed Astrid and her bundle, but nobody said anything. I'm not sure if they knew it was me in there. Toothless and Stormfly had engaged in a game of Stalk and Pounce with each other, so for the moment being, it was just the two of us.

Excellent.

"Here we are." She unrolled my blanket and me on the grass. It was cloudy today, but there was a patch of light on the ground near me, so I moved into it.

Oh. _Wow,_ that felt good. It was like sticking a burned hand into a mountain stream. _Refreshing_. I flexed my wings, wanting every inch of me to bask. Compared to the heat rippling along my back, the grass underneath was icy. It still carried a memory of the night's chill, of gusts tinged with frost. But the grass smelled alive. Even I with my diminished senses could tell that.

"Feeling better?" Astrid asked.

I rubbed my cheek against the ground, a purr rumbling through my body. It felt like the sickness was just evaporating from my body.

Her laughter reminded me of bells. "I'll take that as a yes."

I swung around. My intention had been, I don't know, to cuddle with her a bit or else peck her on the cheeks with my germy lips. Something a human would do. It was when my forehead whacked against her knee that I remembered I couldn't. Quite annoying.

"Hey, guys!" The twins scampered up to us.

Ruffnut crouched down. "How's my baby dragon?"

"Sick," Astrid said flatly. "I thought the sun might make him feel better."

"Sick? Gross." With that, Ruffnut suddenly didn't care about me. Needed to remember that for the future . . .

"Whatever," Tuffnut said. "Are we going now?"

"You guys go without me," Astrid said. "I'll catch up."

They didn't seem impressed. Tuffnut actually said, "I think this is more important than your sick boyfriend."

Astrid took a deep breath. "I'm sure you can find the merchants without me."

"Uh, yeah, of course we can," Tuffnut said, "but who's going to talk to them? _Snotlout_?"

"Hic –" Astrid paused. To herself, she muttered, "Right, that's my job now."

Just then, Snotlout and Fishlegs came barrelling around the Great Hall. Snotlout asked, "Hey, are we leaving now . . . ? What's with him?"

"Sick," Astrid said. She patted my head.

Snotlout rolled his eyes. "Uh, obviously. He's turned into a Night Fury."

"No, like actually sick! Right, Hiccup?"

I sneezed.

. . . Which had Ruffnut cooing all over again. She crouched down low, stuck a finger in my face, and said, "Aw, does our little Hiccup have a cold? Or does he just have the hiccups?"

I bristled. My nose itched. I tensed even further as I tried to keep the sneeze in . . .

"Come on! Coochie, coochie coo . . ."

That one finger tickled the skin between my nose. Every breath I took just made the itching worse.

Nope. Not happening. Not in front of her –

As my body grew stiffer, something in my chest seemed to rupture . . .

_Screk-CHOO!_

Silence. Then . . .

"PUT IT OUT! PUT IT OUT!" Fishlegs screamed.

Snotlout ripped off his Viking helmet, and beat the flames on the Great Hall with it. Although they hadn't been that colour when they left my mouth, they were yellow as they flickered over the charred spot. It wasn't that big, maybe about the size of Fishlegs's palm, and my flame hadn't even been strong enough to break anything.

_Crack! _With one last swing, Snotlout extinguished the last of the flames . . . while embedding one of the helmet;s horns into the wood. It left a bigger mark than I had. Took him three tries to get it out, too. I clapped slowly.

"There goes that problem!" Twirling his helmet by the horn, Snotlout plopped it back on. "Nobody told me that Hiccup could breathe fire."

"Nobody knew," Astrid said. Her mouth was still hanging open in shock.

Fishlegs went on his hands and knees to match my level, one eye closed as he peered at me. He hummed thoughtfully. One finger tapped his chin, before he made a motion to touch my face. "What's it like? Does it hurt afterwards?"

No, it didn't seem so. It was no different from spitting out a wad of spit. Except for the _tiny_ fact that one of them was made of saliva, and the other exploded on impact and set things on fire.

"Can you do it again?" Tuffnut asked.

"No! He will not 'do it again'." Sensing danger in the immediate proximity, Astrid – my favourite person ever – scooped me up into her arms. "Someone could get hurt."

Tuffnut laughed shortly. "That did less damage than a Terror's flame. He's not going to hurt anyone."

"I don't know. . ." Fishlegs said.

Ruffnut shrugged. "I think it would be cool."

A pause.

"Once more can't hurt," Fishlegs said.

Astrid glared at him.

"Come on, Astrid. You heard the lady," Snotlout said. He reached for me, and Astrid swung me out of the way just in time.

"What part of _no_ can't you understand?" I don't think she knew she was doing it, but she started petting me like a cat. I put an end to that.

That's when they tag-teamed her. Snotlout played the role of the distraction: grabbing for me, being loud and annoying. Fishlegs was the sneaky one. He crept around to her other side, hoping to snatch me. But Astrid was too smart for that. As Fishlegs moved around her, her body shifted minutely, reacting to his. And when he lunged, she smoothly slid out of the way.

"It's not happening, and that's my final decision," she said.

That . . . didn't go over so well. They all protested, but Snotlout was the loudest. He proclaimed, "Hey, you don't speak for all of us, and we all want to see Hiccup breathe fire, so that's like four to one. Hah! Majority rules."

The others cheered.

"Not for something as stupid as this," said Astrid. I think that's what she said, at least. I was a little distracted by a tickle in my nose.

Snotlout said, "Astrid, just chill, okay?" (I scrunched my nose up; the tickle was getting worse) "You're not the boss of me."

The tension suddenly thickened. It caught even me by surprise. Astrid had drawn herself up to her full height. They stared into each other's eyes, like two dragons about to fight. It was weird, to say the least. Sure, Snotlout was being his usual irritating self, but this? This was definitely beyond the usual.

I was distracted from my thoughts by the itch, which had grown to the point where it was nearly painful. I pawed my snout, trying to press my claws in deep enough that the force would pass through the skin and scratch the inside part. Meanwhile, Astrid and Snotlout were still staring each other down.

Naturally, Fishlegs saw the opportunity to reach –

"Oh, no you don't!" And the scuffle began anew. Somewhere along the way, my face was thrust into Snotlout' furred shoulders. The strands poked into my nostrils, making the itch so-much worse.

Yep. This was a battle I was going to lose.

Thank Odin for Astrid. Somehow, even though she was dealing with Snotlout and Fishlegs, she still felt me stiffen. With a cry, she pulled me back and pointed me away from Snotlout, back toward the Great Hall –

_Screk-CHOO!_

A small, purple ball flew out of my mouth, narrowly missing the Great Hall. Instead, it proceeded toward the village . . .

There was a distant, faint _boom_. Followed by a moment of peace.

"Well, that was fun," Snotlout announced. Feet already moving, he said, "Let's talk later!"

He and the other teens took that chance to run for it. But then, a dark figure stepped in their paths. The sun shone from behind him, making the black on his clothes and helmet all the more darker. Two curved horns rose from that helmet, reaching skyward. The man had his arms crossed, and his heavy jaw was set into a scowl.

Snotlout rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey, Dad . . ."

Spitelout asked, "What was that?"

As one, the teens – except Astrid – pointed at me.

Astrid sighed. "He has a cold. Apparently, he sneezes fire."

"Fire, huh?" Spitelout sounded decidedly amused. "Don't you think you should turn him back before he destroys something?"

I blinked. Astrid echoed my confusion. "Sorry?"

"He's nearly been a dragon for four days now," Spitelout said. "It's time for you to turn him back."

"We would," Astrid began, "but . . ."

Shrugging, armed with a grin, Ruffnut said, "We have no idea how."

Spitelout didn't say anything. Just looked at his son.

"I'm trying!" Snotlout complained. "But all this magic stuff is pretty crazy and –"

Spitelout cut over him. "We need him turned back by the end of the week. We're leaving for the Chief Gathering in two weeks' time, and he needs to polish Stoick's presentation before then."

"I'll figure it out, okay, Dad?"

Spitelout didn't even offer his son a nod. "Make sure you do."

No one spoke as Spitelout walked away. Finally, Snotlout broke the silence with, "Let's get going."

Fishlegs said, "What about -?"

"Let's _go_!" Snotlout said that, his scent spiking with the hot flavour of anger. The others quailed under that anger, all except Astrid whose scent spiked with its own brand of hotness.

"I'm staying," she said stubbornly.

Before Snotlout could say anything, she straightened up again. Now, I understood. They weren't two dragons about to fight, but two wolves trying to decide who was in charge. My absence, well, my metaphorical one, had opened up a hole in the group that no one was quite sure how to fill. Apparently, this was the result.

Well, it would only be for a few days. Soon enough, everything would be forgiven and forgotten.

Hopefully.

Maybe.

I had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

**Review Responses: **

**Jazz: True, which is why I don't mind humanintelligence!dragons in AU fics where the power dynamic isn't tilted as much in the human direction as it is in canon.**

**Hey, Toothless was trying during lesson #1. it's just hard to demonstrate proper technique when you yourself can't fly :D**

**concrit: Yeah, it might be at some parts, might not be at others. At this point, I'm just going to give on giving their relationship a concrete label, since it seems to fluctuate so much.**

**Snowflake: And that's why they get along!**

**randomreader WITH a profile: And that's all that matters!**

**Guest: That IS on the table. Just give me a reminder later :)**

**a random person: Thanks!**

**Greath: No idea. I'm writing this story as I go along.**


	10. Chapter 10

**If anyone is curious, this is the beginning of Day 5 as a dragon.**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Basking in the sunlight, as it turned out, did wonders for sick dragons. I rose with the sun the next morning, healthy and raring to go. My legs twitched when I stood still; it was like my body knew I had missed an entire day and to make up for it, was determined to stuff all the adventures of two days into one. Thus far, I had chased five sheep, (caught one), pounced at and missed two mice, been chased by one particularly grumpy ram, and posed with an adoring crowd of five year-old fans. Now, I was in Astrid's room. Which I guess means that I forgot to mention climbing up Astrid's wall and through her window in my previous list.

You would think that living in a village full of free-roaming Terrors would have taught people to keep their windows shut. Nope. Not Astrid. So, I had crawled through her window, leaving below a tuckered-out Toothless. Stormfly had chirped at me, but otherwise left me alone.

My weight wasn't enough to wake her. I settled on her abdomen, and watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. Gold hair fanned out around her head; it looked fine to me, but when she woke, I was sure she would call it a mess.

I didn't have to wait too long. Astrid had always been an early riser. She shifted under the covers, and her lips parted slightly as she released a soft sigh. When her arms stretched out, that required enough movement that she finally noticed the foreign weight sitting on her. Blue eyes snapped opened, widened, and then relaxed again when she remembered whose mind inhabited the little dragon's body.

"Hiccup." She groaned and tried to pull the blanket over her head. "Go away. I'm a mess."

I purred at her. Then grabbed the blanket and tried to tug it off. She flicked me in the face and chased me off.

"I'm up, I'm up." As she had promised, she rose out of bed, touching the bedraggled strands of her hair. Her fingers then found her comb and she began to work.

"Hopefully, I don't have to wake everyone else up," she said absently. "I want to find the merchants before they get too far away. We're going to look south for them. It's nearing the end of autumn, so I think they're probably going back to somewhere with warmer weather."

A fair conclusion. I signalled my approval.

As she worked over a knot in her hair, she asked, "How are you feeling today?"

I purred. Then, figuring that wasn't loud enough, I barked.

"That's good." For a brief moment, I was the recipient of an over-the-shoulder smile.

"So, does this mean I can come along?" I asked. When that didn't work, I attempted to explain myself by squawking and flapping my wings really hard.

"Sure, you can come," she said. "You can ride with me and Stormfly."

That settled that. I spent the rest of her morning routine sniffing around her room or pestering Stormfly, up until she kicked us out so she could change. Stormfly, used to her rider's need for privacy, just shook herself and wandered off to where a stew-filled cauldron – _skause_, I imagine - simmered over a small fire. It smelt of meat, various types of meat, and vegetables. Cabbage was the strongest of those.

Stormfly slurped up a few licks of the skause, and then poked her head out an open window. After a moment, she wrenched her head back, only for Toothless to fill the gap instead. Chin on the windowsill, he chuffed at her, and then rolled his head a little to stare at me. I walked over, barely managed to put my front paws on the sill, too, and although he already knew what I smelled like, he sniffed anyways.

Of course, he could have been reading my mood. As I was discovering, emotions tended to have their own distinctive scents. Anger was loud. Both in volume and the strength of its owner's scent. Sadness was strong, too, but while anger tended to be like a knife in the nose, sadness was more pungent. Like walking into a cloud of smoke. It was a type of smell that was almost disturbing. No wonder our dragons hated to see us upset.

While we waited for Astrid, Toothless and I had a quick game of slapping each other's paws. Stormfly tried to participate, but seeing how she went to bite us, I don't think she really got it. That annoyed Toothless, so that by the time Astrid emerged, he and Stormfly were shrieking at each other.

"Both of you, shush!" she snapped. I looked at her innocently.

Astrid and Stormfly ate (after Stormfly defended her meal from a hopeful Toothless), and then we headed out to the Great Hall to meet the others. As I could have predicted earlier, we were the first ones there.

Astrid laid back on the slope. Her arms were behind her head, cradling it as she crossed one leg over the other. She confessed, "I'll be glad when this is over. It's so weird having you look like that."

I grumbled in agreement. She added, "It's _really_ weird hearing you speak like that, too."

I feigned insult.

"Oh, come on." She pushed me lightly. "Most of the time, you barely even sound like a dragon. More like a sleep-talking Viking."

Hey! I knew what sleep-talking Vikings sounded like, and I was sure my underdeveloped voice wasn't able to make those kind of harsh, deep sounds . . . Astrid giggled at my expression.

"Okay, I do not sound like that," I said. "Sure, maybe I mumble a lot, but it doesn't sound anything like them!"

"_Ragh-grr-mmm_," went Astrid, as she mimicked what she accused me of sounding like.

"No, no." I emphasized that with a shake of my head. "I chirp and squawk. See? Listen: I'm doing it right now!"

"_Ragh-grr-mmm_."

"Now you're just making things up."

I turned away from her, and held my chin high. Didn't bother her too much. She was laughing. Strong, gentle finger skimmed over my back, lingering a little longer on the spot right between my wings.

She asked, "Did you just purr?"

I huffed. And stopped purring.

The other riders filed in slowly. The twins first, then Snotlout, and then finally, Fishlegs. The dragons seemed eager to go, even though Hookfang was sprawled across the grass, eyes half closed. Astrid grabbed me, seated herself, and then tucked me into her lap as Toothless watched. She, in her thoughtfulness, had brought along a little blanket for me to nestle into.

"Everyone set?" she asked.

"Hold on," Fishlegs grunted.

She spared him five seconds. "Let's go."

We sprung into the air. Being as small as I was, my presence made no difference whatsoever to Stormfly. We rose above Berk, Toothless right next to us. He had his head tilted slightly to one side as he warbled curiously.

I asked, "You okay, bud?"

He took that as an invitation to swoop closer. He was off to the side a little, just below us, and turned upside-down as to keep an eye on us.

Astrid's brow furrowed. "Uh, Toothless?"

He suddenly charged. He reached out for me, the same way he would to snag a fish, only to be warded off by Astrid's quick reaction. Not like that bothered him much. He shifted just out of the way, and then reached for me again, flying so close to Stormfly that I could hear his wings smacking her in the head.

"Toothless!"

Stormfly snapped at him, annoyed by what she deemed as his harassment. Toothless hissed back. His groping became rougher, less considerate of accidently bumping Astrid and her dragon.

"Toothless, knock it off!" I let the annoyance seep into my voice. Even if he didn't hear it, I knew he would smell it.

He just got annoyed back at me.

From behind us, Fishlegs shyly said, "Uh, I think Toothless wants Hiccup to ride with him."

After that last impromptu flying lesson? I don't think so. It had all been well and good before, but this time we were on a mission. Falling into the ocean was not part of that.

But Toothless insisted. He harassed Stormfly like a wolf pack robbing a bear, all full of bluff charges and nips. Eventually, he herded Stormfly right into the ground, where dirt splashed up as if we had crash-landed.

"Toothless!" Astrid threw her hands in the air, thoroughly exasperated.

Save for grumbling under his breath, Toothless ignored her. He stalked toward the grounded Nadder, and stuck his snout right into Astrid's lap where I lay. Above us, the other riders circled.

"Astrid, just let Toothless take Hiccup," Fishlegs said.

Offering his two cents, Tuffnut said, "What's the worst that could happen?"

From atop his mighty steed, Snotlout called, "Hurry up. We got to get going!"

That seemed to irk her. Mumbling inaudible curses, she lifted me up and plopped me on Toothless's back. His head shot up. His gums showed as he smiled.

He was actually well-behaved on the flight. He stayed at the forefront with Hookfang and Stormfly, occasionally dashing ahead to investigate one thing or another, before rounding back to join them. There was none of that spinning, or falling into the ocean, or sudden thoughts that now was the perfect time to teach his rider how to fly. Instead, he dutifully stayed with the flock, even though I could feel that he wanted to go faster.

Then, the flock split.

"Whoa!" Astrid spun around in her saddle. "Snotlout, where are you going?"

"To look for the witch's home, duh!"

"We agreed to go south today!"

"_They _agreed to that." Steadily, Snotlout's voice was growing distant. "_I'm_ going east."

"Snotlout!" When he failed to respond, Astrid smacked her fist on her saddle. "Fishlegs, go with him. Keep him out of trouble."

Fishlegs and Meatlug separated from the group, going after the lone Snotlout. The twins looked at us uncertainly.

"We stay with the plan," Astrid said. "South."

"Maybe it would be better if we all split up," Tuffnut said.

Astrid's laugh was more of a snort. "Because that worked so well yesterday."

The twins shrugged at each other, but offered no more objections.

It was quiet after. Astrid was visibly stewing from Snotlout's defiance, and I don't think the twins wanted to tangle with that. Her tension had spilled down into her dragon too, who was scanning the horizon carefully, as if worried some monster would rise out of the waves. Toothless cooed to her occasionally, and Stormfly would cluck her irritation back.

Of course, with the others growing distant, Toothless didn't feel the need to stick around them so much. Which meant he had more time to concentrate on me. So far, there were no sudden acrobatics, but I could tell that he was being deliberate with every wingbeat – trying to set a good example.

"There," Astrid suddenly said.

Sure enough, far off in the distance, nearly invisible thanks to the sunlight bouncing off the waves, there was a black _thing_ above the water. More like a blob, if you ask me. It was just a smudge of black. But Vikings were people of the ocean above all else, and my instincts told me that speck was too small to be land, and too large to be a rock. Just to be sure though, Astrid whipped out a telescope and checked it out.

She didn't say anything, but she spurred Stormfly onward and that was enough. We landed in the middle of the deck between the foremost and middle mast, ignoring how the sailors squawked and scattered.

One screeched, "Dragons! Vikings! Dragons riding Vikings!"

"It's Vikings riding dragons, you dweeb," Ruffnut said. Astrid gave her a look.

Even as we were surrounded and men pointed crossbows at us (Toothless arched his back and growled), Astrid calmly raised her hands. "It's okay," she said. "We're from Berk."

"Oh." Those crossbows were lowered and relived sighs filled the air. Vikings . . . not all of them liked to drop by merchant ships to talk. Berk was an exception. We were known to be a friendly tribe, despite our former, long war with the dragons. Actually, it was directly related. When you spend all your time fighting dragons, then you usually don't want to add other people to your list of enemies. So, by specializing in killing dragons, we indirectly gained a reputation for being peaceful.

I know. It's a little difficult to wrap your head around.

"Berkians." A grizzled, bearded man pushed his way through the crowds. He wore what appeared to be a bear-fur coat, and the pelt of an otter for a scarf. A wide captain's hat cast shadows on his craggy brow, and made his already sunken eyes seemed even beadier. He looked tough. Exactly what a captain travelling through Viking-inhabited waters needed to be.

He looked all of us over with that vague air that tried to feign indifference. Still didn't stop his eyes from lingering on Toothless and I. In a gruff voice that made it seem like his throat had been rubbed raw with a scraper, he said, "I see the rumours about your kin and the dragons are true."

Astrid said, "They are."

"You bet they are! Isn't that right?" Making cooing noises, Ruffnut put her dragon in a playful headlock, and grinded her knuckles into one of his skulls.

The captain said nothing about the display. I noticed his hand twitch toward the knife at his belt. He asked, "Something you need?"

"We're not here to barter," Astrid said. She didn't pay attention to the twins, who were trying to goad their dragon's respective heads into a fight with each other. "We're looking for information about a witch who lives somewhere northeast of here. Heard anything?"

"Recently? No," the captain said. "A village made mention of one before, but that was months ago."

Astrid glanced at me. I knew what she was thinking: it was the only lead we had.

As the captain pointed out the area to Astrid on her map, I took the time to lazily examine our surroundings. Although, as I mentioned earlier, the sailors had lowered their weapons, very few of them had put them away completely. They avoided our eyes, scurrying around us like mice scavenging near a sleeping cat. I guess that not everyone had realized that dragons were no longer a threat.

I could hear whispers. To a regular person, they would have been indistinguishable, but to a curious baby dragon? Easy. I zoomed in to their conversation, and listened.

"I'm telling you, look! Right there, on the big black one's back, there's a baby."

Internally, I grinned. Oh, yes, there was. Even though said little dragon would much rather be a Viking. I couldn't catch much of their scent from here, so I listened to their emotions instead. There were pinpricks of curiosity running along those words, no matter how wary they were of Toothless and the others.

Maybe, maybe I could . . .

I rolled off Toothless's back. He jumped. I smiled at him, telling him it was okay. Snuffling, making a show of how uncoordinated and_ not dangerous_ I was, I wobbled over to the whispering sailors. They skittered away like I was a wave of boiling lava. I sighed. Walked toward them with more confidence. By now, others were raising alarms, but they were too uncertain to attack first, especially when I was so small and harmless.

"Hiccup!" Astrid hissed.

I cornered the sailors against the rail. Sat right at their feet, gave them a big-eyed stare, and chirped. Ruffnut found it cute, so I was hoping they would, too.

The sailors all looked at each other. One of the men I had cornered found his voice and asked, "So . . . do we touch it?"

"Hiccup . . ." Just when I was making progress, Astrid scooped me up. "Sorry about that. He's curious."

"It's okay," a sailor squeaked.

"Astrid, put me down! I think I can get through to these guys."

"We'll just go now," Astrid said, making her way toward Stormfly with me.

"But –"

We took off. A few seconds passed before Toothless demanded custody of me again. Astrid handed me off without a word, and I kept my eyes fixed on the ship below.

Maybe next time.

* * *

**Review Responses:  
**

**Guest: I agree**

**Jazz: He can "breathe" fire ;)**

**Guest (#2): Yes, elements of HTTYD 2 will come into play. Including those parts we do not want to spoil for others. Not for a while, though.**

**a random person: Nope, normal cold. He just doesn't know how to trigger/not trigger his flame.**

**NWL: Thank you!**

**Snowflakes: Everything Night Furies do is cute :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"So . . . how do you expect to find them?"

"I don't know, Tuffnut!" Astrid snapped. "Maybe if someone hadn't run off in the first place . . ."

"Whoa! I'm not Snotlout, so quit yelling at me."

She cast her gaze forward. "Sorry."

Our reflections shimmered in the waves as we flew overhead. The merchants had pointed us east of our original starting position, or in others words, where Snotlout and Fishlegs had gone. No sign of them yet, though. Just water, water and, yes, more water. Lovely.

"They couldn't have gone that far," Ruffnut said. "I mean it's _Meatlug_."

"It's a big world," Astrid said. "Who knows what weird thing caught their attention."

Another fair point by my fair lady. Fishlegs was the most curious of us, and Snotlout was the most likely to ignore a mission. The combination of the two weren't as likely to get into mischief as Snotlout and the twins were, but still not a great pair. Astrid and I were the only two who could keep Snotlout in line. And that was on a good day.

"There's an isle up ahead," Astrid said suddenly.

I knew what she was getting at. It had been a long way without land, and Fishlegs was a heavy rider even for Meatlug. Fishlegs would have probably insisted on a break, and as stubborn as Snotlout could be, there was a good chance he didn't leave them behind.

It wasn't much of an isle. Mostly water crashing against cliffs, rocky beaches, and a few prickly batches of plants. So, a lot like the shores around Berk, only without any trees. Astrid walked to the center of the place, a feat that took her a grand total of five seconds, and looked around. She put her hands on her hips.

"Well, if they were here, they aren't anymore," she said. "Anyone need to rest?"

"Nah." Ruffnut grinned at Astrid from over Barf's head. "We're good. Right, Belch?"

"Uh, I'll decide that." Tuffnut grabbed Belch by the horn and examined him. "Yep. He's fine."

"What about you, Stormfly?" Stormfly clucked happily as Astrid rubbed her neck. "Toothless?"

Toothless gave her a smug look. Toothless and I, we could fly for _days_. Now that I was miniaturized, he could go even longer.

Just when Toothless arched his wings in preparation of a take-off, I spotted something. I jumped off his back, squawked and ran over to the object of my investigation: footprints.

"Look at these," I said to Astrid, even though she couldn't understand me. I ran the point of my claw around the heel of the prints. "They went that way."

Astrid followed the trail, noting where the prints disappeared and which way they were facing when they did. "They were here. They went this way," she said. I could see her eyes brighten.

But before we could really celebrate, Ruffnut said, "Uh, guys, apparently they went this way, too."

"What?" Astrid ran over, and checked out the trail there. "_Ugh!_ They split up!"

What a surprise.

"You go after Snotlout," she said to the twins. "I'll take Fishlegs."

Before I could voice my surprise, Astrid swung herself onto Stormfly and left. The twins departed shortly after. Toothless and I stared at each other.

"Uh, let's follow Astrid?" I flicked my ears in that direction.

Toothless shrugged.

We caught up quickly. I tugged on Toothless's ear, urging him to get close enough to Astrid so that I could hop onto her. Toothless huffed and scowled a lot, but since I had chosen to swap dragons, he didn't seem to think he had permission to snatch me.

I crooned, looking up at Astrid curiously. Sending the twins after Snotlout was not a decision I expected of her. I definitely would have assigned them to Fishlegs.

She took a deep breath. She told me, "I don't want to face him right now. They can handle him."

Okay. Whatever she said. I'm not sure I believed that, though.

She squinted suddenly. "Hey, is that Fishlegs?"

I looked. There was a small blob bobbing up and down in the distance. Judging by the pattern of their flight, it was probably those two.

"They're coming back," she said softly, almost in alarm. "I don't see anything chasing them."

Even still, we stayed alert. Astrid kept one hand on the axe at her belt, even though it wasn't much use when you were riding a dragon. A spicy, sour smell wafted from her –adrenaline, maybe. I wasn't experienced enough to know – and it had the two dragons up in arms. Toothless immediately declared his guardianship over me. Stormfly even helped him take me back; she tipped just enough for his greedy paws to reach.

When Fishlegs and Meatlug reached us, Astrid demanded, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah?" He said the word slowly, as if unsure whether we would understand Norse. "Why?"

"I just thought . . . never mind. Where's Snotlout?"

Fishlegs winced. "Uh, I might not . . ."

"I told you to keep an eye on him."

"I did. Uh, I mean I am! We're meeting up at this little island over there."

"And how long do you think it'll take him to get back?" she asked dryly.

Fishlegs didn't answer.

When we got back to the isle, it was empty. Surprise. Astrid made a show of looking around. She said nothing, but she didn't need to. She ended up sitting on the cliff side, wave-tips leaping at her feet, while she ran her hand down the shaft of her axe. It was a nervous tic of hers. And a worried one. And an violent one. My bet was that her current feelings were leaning toward the latter.

In a much shorter timespan than I had expected, we saw them on the horizon. Snotlout, his helmet hanging half off his head, swooped in on his trusty Hookfang, one hand raised in a slight wave as if he was a king saluting his commoners.

"Where were you?" Astrid demanded as she marched up to him. She at least had the foresight to put her axe away.

Contrary to what I had expected, Snotlout didn't get mad. He smiled at her – a cutting, smug smile, yes, but still a smile. He said, "Just solving the mystery."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I," he jabbed his thumb into his chest, "found it."

A short pause.

"Found what?" Fishlegs asked.

"The witch's house, duh!"

"_What!_"

Snotlout ignored Astrid's outburst. "Now quit slacking and follow me."

Astrid was still struggling to speak, even as Fishlegs and the twins took off with Snotlout. Toothless looked at me questioningly.

I tugged at her shoe. She only murmured, "How . . . ?"

"We can ask that later," I barked at her. "They're going to leave us behind."

She couldn't understand me, but she still snapped out of her daze. Under her breath, she mumbled, "Talk about dumb luck."

The ride to the witch's house was . . . hostile. By all rights, Snotlout should have led the way. As much as I loved Astrid, he was the one who actually knew where he was going. Astrid wasn't so keen on that. She wanted Snotlout to tell her where to go, and then fall back so that she could lead. And she wasn't quiet about it. Snotlout just sneered and said not so polite things to her and . . . oh boy. It was a mess. I swear if Stormfly and Hookfang weren't deliberately keeping distance between them, their riders would have tried throwing a few punches.

And the rest of us? Well, we just mostly huddled back and pretended not to exist. Those of us that had a choice, that is. Unlike Meatlug and Barf and Belch, Toothless wasn't intimidated by the loud voices. Nope. He just got more and more worked up, and he buzzed around Astrid and Snotlout, snapping his teeth together in midair. It unnerved the dragons, but those two didn't really notice.

Finally – _finally_ – we reached our destination. Nothing fancy. Just a beaten, one-room hut on the first island in the chain of the Mazy Multitudes. It was perched upon a crag like some plump, old raven, and there was a path leading down from the hut to a rickety dock at the water shore. The boat itself was missing.

"So lucky," Astrid repeated.

We landed. Astrid was the first to approach the house, Stormfly at her shoulder. I would have been with her, but she had signalled Toothless – that traitor! – to keep me back. Snotlout babbled to Ruffnut about how he would protect her.

Astrid took a second to study the locked door, then went for the very Viking method of just kicking the thing open.

Another second.

"Seems safe enough," she said.

Tuffnut walked past her and through the door. He said, "Are we sure this is the right . . . whoa!"

Tuffnut's question turned into a yelp. He jumped back violently. On its rope, the skull still swung from when he had bumped into it.

Astrid moved toward it. "Is that . . . is that a _dragon_ skull?"

As if they understood her, all the dragons stared at that skull. By size alone, it would have either had to belong to a Terror, or a very young dragon. Meatlug whimpered and huddled against Fishlegs. Toothless growled. His tail wound around me as he glared at the area around us.

"Toothless, it's fine." I rubbed up against his chest. "She's dead, remember?"

He didn't stop growling. I would have done something about that, but the spikey scents of wariness and mistrust distracted me. By this point, Hookfang was snarling, too. Barf and Belch were whistling their 'Where are you, threat?' song, and Stormfly had gone perfectly still. The mistrustful scents started to emit from their riders too, as they noticed their dragons' body language.

"Maybe we should leave," Fishlegs said.

Astrid looked like she was on the verge of agreeing with him. The twins were impossible to read. And Snotlout?

"You're all a bunch of babies." He shoved his way past Tuffnut, and into the room beyond. Hookfang did not go after him.

Guess that was our job.

It was dark inside. Would have been a great time to have Inferno. Fishlegs found the shutters quickly and opened them. Motes of dust floated peacefully in the ray of light that entered, and that little bit of light was enough comfort for Meatlug to waddle in. Toothless was already with me.

The hut smelt of dirt and moss, of wilderness. And decay. I could taste it in the back of my mouth. Other than the skull, I couldn't see anything that would be emitting that scent, but it was there. It was everywhere. There was one foreign human scent - the witch herself, I presume - but it was fairly weak. I'm going to assume that's why Toothless wouldn't let me leave his side. His teeth were still showing; his wings were arched in an automatic act to make him look bigger.

There was a bed against a wall, and lots of shelves filled with dried plants, liquid-filled flasks, and all sorts of crazy things. It was like someone had crammed my work area in the forge together with Fishlegs' kitchen. A wooden table lay against another wall, and there was a knife sticking out of its surface. At the back, where a stack of cages.

"Hiccup, look!" Though aimed at me, the tone of Astrid's voice was enough to grab the attention of everyone. She ran right to the back of the hut, and wrenched open the door to a small cage. Something inside squirmed –

I smelt dragon. And fear. There was something else as well, like that decaying stench, but not. Definitely a relative of it though, and it made my mind go somewhere dark.

I wonder if dragons could smell when something was dying.

In the cage, the Terror hissed. She kept pushing backwards, like she thought if she pushed hard enough, she would pass right through the cage and wall. Astrid was trying to shush her, but the sounds were just freaking out the Terror more.

"Everyone, back off!" I ordered.

They did the complete opposite.

I nudged Toothless. He huffed, and then shoved the others back with his head, giving me a clear path to the Terror.

I climbed onto the table. "Hey, it's okay. We're friends. We're here to help."

The Terror cocked her head. She was panting heavily, eyes wide, but she wasn't hissing. Okay, right. Language barrier. What was a non-threatening sound . . .?

I chuffed.

The panting slowed. She sniffed. I wanted to tell her that the witch that had caged her was dead, but the closest I could get was by flicking my ears at the others, and then at that skull. She nodded when I did that.

Okay, I think she thought I was asking whether people had killed that dragon . . . this wasn't really working. I tried to tell her instead that we were good people, but she didn't understand me.

Toothless must have though, because he suddenly purred very loudly and rubbed up against Astrid. Meatlug followed suit with her rider. Fishlegs looked confused, but he gave her a gentle pat on the side.

"See, it's okay," I crooned. "They won't hurt you."

Some more crooning and similar displays either, I convinced her to crawl out of the cage. She moved slowly; I could tell she was starving.

Fishlegs was the first to pick up on that. As always, he had some food stashed away in his pockets, and offered that to the little Terror. She refused to touch it until Fishlegs put it down and backed away.

"Poor little guy," Astrid murmured.

"I got water, too." Fishlegs' voice was high, like he was dealing with an angry Nightmare. "Here."

When he untied his water skin, the Terror cried out. In her haste to get to the water, she even forgot her fear of Vikings, and Fishlegs couldn't even find something to pour it in before the Terror tried to tear apart the leather with her teeth.

"Wait, don't do that! Uh, use this!" He poured some water into his helmet and left it for the Terror to drink.

It was pitiful, watching her. Even more when she tried to growl and threaten the others. I really wish I could have talked to her.

But before I could even consider that, Stormfly squawked loudly from outside. _Hey, over here!_

Astrid nearly burst through the wall. I couldn't blame her; we were all on edge. Toothless didn't seem any more agitated though, so Stormfly couldn't have been alerting us to something dangerous.

Stormfly was stock-still. Her tail and neck were parallel to the ground, so that she resembled an arrow. That arrow would have been pointing in the direction of Barf and Belch, who were watching Hookfang as he dug a hole.

As I approached, the stench of death hit me.

Not just me. All of us recoiled. Snotlout was the first to brave his way through the invisible miasma, and peer into the hole.

"Gross!" He stumbled back. "There's bones in there."

Quietly, Astrid asked, "What _kind_ of bones?"

That . . . was Fishlegs' job. We all looked away as he sifted through Hookfang's hole.

"Some of them are dragon," he whispered. "Most aren't. They were probably food for the dragons."

" . . . This is bad, right?" Tuffnut asked.

Face green, Fishlegs mumbled something incoherent. He ran back into the hut.

There was a shriek from inside. From the Terror, most likely, reacting to Fishlegs' reappearance. A second later, Meatlug waddled out, the Terror attached to her back. Out in the daylight, she looked even more wretched. Maybe her scales were naturally that mottled colour, but I had the feeling it wasn't natural.

She didn't stick around long – too many humans for her – and her absence left a silence that couldn't be filled. Either the birds had stopped singing, too, or we had all grown temporary deaf to their songs. Instead, there was the whistle of wind dipping and diving through the trees, and the creaking of some ancient tree.

At least the dragons had calmed down. They were still nervous, but no longer acting like someone was lurking in the woods, ready to attack. The riders, on the other hand, if anything, were worse. Astrid was keeping a brave face, but I could smell her anxiety beneath it all. None of that was expressed in her voice, though.

"We need to talk to the villages around here," Astrid said. "Someone's got to know what's going on . . . not you, Hiccup. You're not coming."

I pouted.

She said, "They're probably not dragon friendly, remember?"

Right. The pains of being a little fire-breathing lizard.

"Hey!" Fishlegs jogged up to us. In his clammy hand, he held a stack of parchment. "I'll go back with him, too."

"You, too? Why, are you scared?" Snotlout jeered.

"No . . ." Fishlegs waved the parchment in front of our faces. "But I found some kind of research notes, and the ride will give me time to look over them."

Astrid thought over that. "Okay, sure. I was probably going to do most of the talking anyways."

I tugged at Fishlegs' pants, wanting to know if he found anything interesting.

He flipped through the papers. "Some of these are old. Like before we met our dragons."

"That long?" A sharp note of suspicion made itself known in Astrid's tone. "What are they about?"

Fishlegs shrugged. "I haven't looked at them enough to say."

Astrid nodded at him. "Read them. I want to know _everything_ those notes say."

* * *

**Review Response:  
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**sweettea1: So, a happy accident, eh? I can live with that!**

**Thank you! Magic is one of those explanations that was just specific enough and vague enough to work! But yes, thank you for reviewing the story. Hopefully, you'll continue to enjoy it.**

**Jazz: Okay fine: Daddy!Toothless ahead. There we go. Now everyone's happy!**

**There are people scared of puppies. Therefore, there must be people scared of Tiny!Dragon!Hiccup XD**

**a random person: The first question is still unanswered! The second was a yes!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Meatlug had always been the slowest of the dragons. And as you can imagine, that didn't go over well with Toothless, the fastest of the dragons. He would have been able to live with it, but Meatlug also wasn't as chatty as Stormfly or Barf and Belch. Which basically boils down to: Toothless plus Meatlug equals a very bored Toothless. Which meant I was counting down the seconds until he began to focus on _me_.

Right now, Toothless was making large, lazy swoops. They were U-shaped, ending a few yards above Fishlegs and his dragon, and passing underneath them. Toothless was barely even flying; he just fell with his wings extended, and let the lift his speed generated carry him back up to the top. Occasionally, his wake would rustle the unearthed pages in Fishlegs' hands, although Fishlegs himself didn't seem to notice.

"She was studying them for a really long time," Fishlegs said. "Look, she even knew about the Red Death!"

"And didn't tell anyone? She sounds like a wonderful individual."

"Looks like she knew that the Red Death was controlling them, too."

"Again, sounds wonderful."

"I wonder why," he said. "I don't think she would have done all of this just out of curiosity."

I swallowed. I had ideas. None of them were what you would call good. Which was fitting, seeing that the witch had attacked us anyways.

"Whoa!" I pressed myself against Toothless's body as he nearly went upside down at the end of his loop. He glanced over his shoulder, curious gaze passing over my face.

I knew what that stare meant.

It was the beginning of the end.

"Toothless, I really don't want to . . . no, don't chirp at me! We're on a mission, right now. No time for . . ."

"Whoa!" That was from Fishlegs this time, not me. The sentiment was the same though, as he said that after watching Toothless try to buck me off.

"Toothless!" At that moment, l looked not like a little dragon, but the human I very much was. I had wrapped my arms around one of his ears, clutched it tight to my chest, and stared at the ground with wide eyes as I hung on for life itself. Toothless just thought I was being silly.

He turned over. I could feel my grip slipping, so I automatically bit down on his ear. After a few seconds left, that's all I had left. I was hanging in mid-air, attached to Toothless by my teeth.

Through a mouthful of dragon, I said, "Toothless, let me up!"

He flipped back, but then he started tossing his head, trying to dislodge me that way. Thank you, teeth. They were the only thing between me and a terrible fate.

"Are you two okay?" Fishlegs called.

I rolled my eyes. I tried to say 'fantastic', but I think it came out more like: "uh-aa-ic".

But my brilliant comeback had distracted me. I found myself biting empty air, and Toothless flashed me a victorious grin. I staggered as the slope of his shoulders became uneven.

"Toothless . . . !"

The angle steepened –

"Toothless, _no!_"

The snarl came unbidden from my chest, bouncing from side to side of my throat like a startled rabbit. It was guttural and lasting, vibrating through the air long after I stopped. Deeper than a regular growl; fiercer than I thought a dragon like me could sound like. And would wonders ever cease, Toothless _listened_. His roll stopped, and his ears flattened against his head as he whined. It was what I liked to call his pouty mode.

I noticed Fishlegs was staring at me.

"Sorry," he said bashfully. "That's just the first time that you actually sounded like a _dragon_."

In an odd way, I was flattered. Throw what you could at old Hiccup, and he would find a way to make use of it. At the same time, I felt guilty that one of the first things I had 'said' to Toothless had been in the form of a snarl.

I didn't know how to say sorry, so I went for the closest thing. I rubbed my head against the back of his. _I love you_.

It was hard for him to stretch and rub back against me, so instead he chuffed. _Hello_.

Then he chirped. This time though, it was softer. A question rather than a demand. I pressed myself to his back, making my position on the topic very clear.

He made a sound I couldn't translate.

I had a sneaking suspicion it meant: _next time_.

* * *

Fishlegs was consumed by those papers. He read them all the way home; he was still reading them when Stoick greeted and asked us about our search. He ended up walking into his front door because he was so busy reading them. Somehow, though, we had made it to his room. Now he was lying back on his bed, still reading. Meatlug dozed across his legs. I had no idea how she didn't crush them.

"It's control!" he said suddenly. He tried to jump up, but could only do so much with Meatlug's bulk atop him. "That's what she wanted; she was experimenting on the dragons because she wanted control over them."

From where I was on the foot of the bed, I cocked my head. Toothless laid his chin on the frame.

"It's not like us," he further elaborated. "She didn't want to _tame_ dragons. She wanted to _control_ them. Like the Queen did."

The difference didn't surprise me much. From what I had seen, the witch had kept her dragons in cages, and when you did that, of course they would act like mindless animals. They wouldn't have acted like their true gentle selves. So, it was only natural she wouldn't have known that dragons had a mind of their own.

A while later, Toothless and I perked up when we heard Astrid outside the house. She ended up letting herself in, seeing that Meatlug had Fishlegs pinned. And I was right at the door to greet her; I bounced around her feet like an overexcited puppy. Toothless chuffed.

She picked me up. "Not much happened on our end," she said. "Just wait. I'll tell you both together."

Fishlegs didn't even notice when we walked back in. He was scanning through the papers, mouth half-open in an expression of awe. It took Astrid clearing her throat to finally get an acknowledgement out of him.

He told her what he told me, about the control. She took it all in with a neutral expression. She asked if the witch had succeeded, to which he answered no.

"Great." The bed rustled when she sat on it. "At least you found something. All we learned was that the Ferocious Fiends used to sell captive dragons to her. But then the Red Death happened, and the dragons didn't come into their village for them to capture anymore, so now? Nothing."

"Then how did she get the Terror?"

"It's just a Terror," Astrid said. "She could have trapped it herself."

"Okay, so it's back to square one. Where's everyone else?"

She pointed her chin toward the window. "Outside. They said they had something important to do."

Snotlout and the twins? I was doubting that. As for why, let's just say that we had a radically different definition of 'important'. That was why I had a desire to look out the window for them and . . .

Hey, they were right there.

Ruffnut waved me down, visibly stifling a snicker. Next to her, her twin put a finger to his lips. Snotlout grinned widely, hands grasping something behind his back.

I glanced back at the others. When I looked back at the trio, they all shook their heads.

Right . . . this couldn't _possibly_ go wrong. But at least I think I got to be a prankee this time, instead of the pranked. I mean with this whole dragon situation and all, I deserved a break. Right?

I snuck out of the house, but that didn't mean I went directly toward them. Okay, I did. But I kept distance between us. As much as I trusted them to have my back . . . I really didn't trust them.

Good thing, too. Because if their smiles were telling me anything, they had no plans to make me a partner-in-crime.

"What's going on?" I backed away, mindful of how their shadows seemed to reach out for me.

"Nothing!" Snotlout said that much too happily for my liking.

They were lying. That was obvious. I just didn't know _what_ they were lying about . . . but I did have my secret weapon: my enhanced senses. I took a deep breath, shuffled through their individual scents, and zoomed in one that I didn't recognize –

Whoa.

_Whoa_.

It was warm and gentle, yet also red-hot and as sharp as a blade. Like the smell of sunlight. It shocked every nerve in my body; static danced along my skin. I paid no more mind to my earlier suspicions and crept closer to the trio.

What _was_ that smell?

The scent grew stronger. I shuddered deep in my bones. It was . . . _beautiful_. I could feel myself floating away . . .

Oh, wait. I was just leaning back on my hind legs. I don't remember doing that.

"Whoa, it's actually working!" Snotlout laughed. His hand moved to his front and opened –

That was it. _There it was_. It was everything I ever dreamed of . . . I couldn't actually see it that well; the smell had overwhelmed my senses and the world was so bright and pretty, but I knew it was there. Snotlout waved it over my head, and I followed it –

Whoops. Just fell over. Heh, funny. I'm funny.

Where did it go? I followed my nose, ending up right at Snotlout's feet. It was still in his hand, higher up. Sure. I could work with this.

"_Argh_! Dude, that hurts!"

He was sure moving a lot. That's okay. That's what claws were for. I dug them in deeper and climbed.

He threw it. _Why would he do that?_

But it was mine now. I pounced. Rubbed my face in it. So _perfect_. I just wanted to gobble it all up and make a nest out of it. All for me. _Mine_.

Upside down, I purred, "I love you guys."

The twins were staring at Snotlout's leg. He had pulled his pants up, revealing a couple of red scratches. Oops. Was that from me? It probably was. Bad Night Fury.

Night Fury?

"Toothless! Hey, Toothless! Where are you, you big oaf?"

Toothless burst out of the house. He stopped short.

"Isn't it _wonderful_?"

Toothless joined me in rolling around.

" . . . Hiccup?"

I slurred, "Astriiiiiiidddd!"

She stepped toward us. "What are you doing?"

"Just enjoying life."

She scowled. And turned on the others. "You!"

I frowned. She sounded mad. Why was she mad?

"You gave him _Dragon Nip_?"

Ohhhh. So that's what it was. Dragon Nip. Got to remember to grab myself some.

"It was Fishleg's idea!" Snotlout shouted. His voice was all wobbly and funny. "He was the one who suggested I try it."

Tuffnut added, "Yeah, we're going to try the eel next."

"_What_?" Astrid sprung between Toothless, me and them, arms held out as if to shield me. "You are not going to poison him!"

"We're not poisoning him; we're just going to see if he's scared of it."

I didn't quite catch Astrid's response. Everyone's voice was weird and it took way too much focus to listen. But she was mad. Very mad. It was distracting. She just needed to take a deep breath and relax . . . she needed some Dragon Nip. Dragon Nip was amazing. It made everything better.

No, Toothless. Stop complaining. Astrid's on the Sharing List.

"Astrid!" I grabbed a few strands of the Dragon Nip and walked over to her. I accidentally crushed them. Juice trickled into my mouth and . . . and . . .

What was I talking about again?

Hey, look at all the bright lights.

I tried to grab one. Astrid held me against her chest. She smelled nice . . . ugh, my head hurt. Too much at once.

Astrid hissed, "Well, let's see what Stoick thinks about this."

Snotlout made a weird squeaking sound.

Tuffnut held his hands up. "Okay, no need for that."

"Come on, Hiccup." Toothless and I both cried out when she stuffed the Dragon Nip in her pocket.

Everything was kind of a blur after that. I hung limply in Astrid's arms, still holding onto the memory of that perfect moment. I missed that Dragon Nip.

Astrid sighed, and said, "You are going to be so embarrassed. Yes, I'm being serious. You can stop purring. Once you sleep off whatever that stuff did to you, I don't know how you're going to show your face."

I just purred. Silly Astrid. Everything was _perfect_.

* * *

**Review Responses:  
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**Guest: Thanks! If you've been following what I've said to the other anons, then you know why I didn't want them to speak like humans... at least I think I mentioned it to one of them before. It might have been a response to a signed review; I don't really remember.**

**Jazz: Well, the basics of storytelling are always the same, right? Although I'll admit that I find it much easier to write description in third-person than first-person. :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"I said quiet!"

Dad's voice cleaved into my brain like a wedge. _Again_. This time though, I wasn't going to blame him. It was the only way to be heard over this crowd of rowdy Vikings. Not that all of them listened.

It seemed like every Viking above the age of ten had been stuffed into the Great Hall. Body heat and sweat-turned-vapour had turned the place into an oven. On a different day, we might have propped the doors open to get rid of the excess heat – and the _smell_ – but it was nasty out, and we didn't want rain, or dragons seeking shelter, to get in. There were enough of us in here already.

With no windows, you couldn't actually see what the weather was like outside, but the humidity was undeniable, and the occasional clap of thunder rolled over the building. There was a drip in the corner, slowly filling a bucket that had been placed there just for this situation. I wouldn't mind taking a dip in that.

He roared again: "Everyone _QUIET_!"

The chattering started to die. The ruckus broke into smaller groups huddled at the ends of their tables. Most of the Vikings were sitting, but not Dad. He prowled behind the Head Table, tossing his head from side to side like an angry ox. Gobber stood back at the corner, waiting for his cue as he always did. Astrid was at the Head Table too, seated, speaking in my place. And to remind everyone of that, I was on the tabletop in front of her. For that reason only. Not for any other. Seriously.

Dad ceased pacing. He rested his hands on the table, and leaned on those for support. "Now, I know we have a bit of a situation here . . ."

"A 'bit'?" someone shouted. "We leave for the Chief Gathering in two days! How are we supposed to explain that the chief's son had turned into a dragon?"

"We don't." Dad said that nice and slowly, putting enough force into that second word that you would have thought he was thrusting a knife into someone's chest.

"Then how do we explain his absence?"

Gobber shrugged. A fishbone stuck out from between his teeth as he said, "Eh, we'll just tell them that he's back at home. Tell them that there's some sort of sickness going around and he needs to run the place."

To my surprise, Snotlout spoke. "Uh, we already used that excuse three times before, remember?"

I blinked. They did? When was this? Dad and Gobber were occupied, so I looked back at Astrid for an explanation. She avoided my eyes.

"Doesn't matter," Dad said. "They've seen Hiccup these last couple of years. They know we have no reason to lie anymore."

Lie . . . anymore? What? A feeling of being ignored swept over me; I was almost getting the feeling that Dad had forgotten I was sitting at (_on_) the table in front of him.

"Just tell them the truth," Gobber said. "Say there's a big problem at home involving dragons, and Hiccup is off dealing with it."

Astrid piped up. "We're trying to promote peace with dragons. Not give them yet another reason to hate each other."

"Astrid's right," Dad said. "They'll be looking for any reason to start up another war. We stick with our first idea."

Spitelout leaned forward. "That may work, but you're forgetting the bigger part of the problem: the Night Fury. Without Hiccup, we don't have a dragon to show."

"Uh, excuse me, but I'm sitting right here," Snotlout protested. "Me and Hookfang can put on just as good a show as Hiccup and his dragon can!"

"Yeah." Ruffnut's voice hitched a little when she snickered. "We'll show them."

I heard Astrid groan. When I glanced back, her forehead was resting in her palm.

She said, "Fishlegs and I will present the dragons."

But Spitlout wasn't done. "It was going to be the Night Fury that won them over."

"Stoick, can't you control the beast?" someone asked.

"To an extent. But Toothless obeys Hiccup above all others, and I doubt the dragon is willing to leave him." Wood creaked under Dad's weight. He wiped his brow as he scanned the crowd. "They're expecting to see a Night Fury. To come with anything less . . ."

Astrid's touch passed across my shoulders. She was staring at me thoughtfully, biting down on her lower lip. I could see the light of an idea growing in her eyes.

She stood suddenly, and walked in front of the Head Table. "So, we'll give them a Night Fury. We'll give them a Night Fury that's perfectly trained; a Night Fury who's perfectly at ease in a crowd."

Stoick frowned. "I don't think Toothless is that sociable . . ."

"No, not Toothless! Hiccup. We give them Hiccup."

With that dramatic announcement, a hundred eyes were on me. Astrid swung around, pointing at me, just in case people had somehow missed the dragon sitting on the table. I tried to smile; I unsheathed my teeth a second later.

"That could work," Dad said.

Gobber grinned. "You up for show biz, Hiccup?"

I waggled my shoulders, and tried to spit out a little fire. But all I ended up with was a little drool. I don't think anyone noticed.

"Then that's settled." A loud _thump_ echoed through the Hall as Dad slammed his fist down. "We take Hiccup with us."

Fishlegs put his hand up. "What about our dragons?"

"I'd rather we avoid any shenanigans." Even as he said that, Dad's lip had curled into a little smile. "Leave them here."

As he marched toward the exit, Dad called out, "Prepare the ships. We leave at noon tomorrow."

* * *

The storm had ended. The clouds had faded from an intense black to a darker grey. The trees were heavy with rainwater; every gust sent another barrage to the ground. Little beads gathered between individual blades of grass, glinting in the light like a sheet of fireflies.

Fog rose when we breathed. The moisture was thick enough that Ruffnut was occasionally compelled to grab a handful of her hair and squeeze it, as if she had just been swimming. Our steps echoed; most of the dragons were still hiding from the nonexistent rain, and the village was emptier than I had ever seen in months. The dragons' feeding stations were filled to the brim with water, and in some cases, fish corpses had spilled out onto the cobblestone. Toothless, one of the few still outside (he had been perched on top of the Great Hall), happily guzzled up those in his path. He seemed to glide across the ground from shadow to shadow, like the champion of the night he really was. I was a little jealous.

"That could have gone a lot worse," Astrid said.

"This time, there wasn't even any yelling," Tuffnut said, sounding disappointed. He shivered. "It's cold out."

"Then let's go burn something," Ruffnut suggested.

At the same time, Astrid and I said, "Not anything that doesn't belong to you."

Ruffnut rolled her eyes. "You're no fun."

"Then stick around," Astrid said. "You'll get fire."

. . . What?

Astrid led us purposefully out and away from the village . . . for some reason. I wasn't too clear on her plan. There would be fire, that I knew. But why?

I frolicked ahead of them, spending some time slithering around in a mud puddle . . . so I could go back and rub up against Snotlout and the twins. Hah! I think it was Tuffnut that once said it: revenge is sweet. And I needed some kind of revenge after that incident with the Dragon Nip yesterday. It had been bad enough with Astrid there while I was at home still under its effects, but then Dad walked in . . . I honestly don't remember much, but according to Astrid there was lots of swaying and chewing of beards.

Anyways. Revenge, It worked on Snotlout. The twins just made fun of each other, and then got it in their heads to start a mud-fight. All of us, not just me, ran away from the wrestling siblings. You never know when they would decide to stop fighting and decide to team up on someone else.

We stopped in the middle of an open field. Astrid silently communicated with Fishlegs, and then took a deep breath.

"Alright, this is it," she said. "Time to get started."

"Uh, what exactly are we going?" Snotlout asked.

"If Hiccup's going to go on that ship, he needs to figure out how to control his flame." She smiled at me. "Not that I don't trust you, Hiccup, but I don't want to take a chance when we're on a wooden ship in the middle of the ocean."

Fair enough. No offense would be taken.

"Okay . . . so go!" She clapped her hands together.

I stared at her.

I coughed.

"You did it before." She couldn't keep the whine out of her voice.

"Well . . ." Fishlegs wrung his hands together in front of him. "He didn't really. He was sneezing. It seemed more like an involuntary action."

"Great. Just what we needed."

I felt my ears droop. Astrid was right: we needed to get this fire problem dealt with before tomorrow. But I had no idea where to start – and I was the dragon! Granted, I wasn't a real dragon but –

Toothless!

I squawked._ Pay attention to me_. I had no idea if dragons even had a sound that referred to fire, so I hacked and tried to mimic spitting a fireball. Toothless cocked his head to one side, and then the other. His throat clenched as he made part of his harsh, laughter sound.

I nodded. I think he understood –

He promptly spat up half a fish on my head.

Never mind.

The fish splatted against the ground.

Behind me, I heard Snotlout say, "So, let's just make him sneeze."

The next thing I knew, there was a piece of grass under my nose. Snotlout was tickling it.

Astrid pulled him away. "Are you trying to get your hand burned off?"

"At least I'm doing something!"

I left them to their squabble. As much as they seemed to need it, it wasn't really helping. I sucked in a deep breath, blew it out sloooowly . . . that didn't do much either. Huh. This might be harder than I thought. Snotlout might actually be on to something with that whole 'make him sneeze' thing. At least then I would have a starting point.

Making yourself sneeze was harder than it looked; Toothless was looking at me with concern. Couldn't blame him too much. I sounded like I was dying. Plus, even though I wasn't actually sneezing, my body still twitched like I was.

Toothless poked me.

"I'm fine!" I complained. "Just getting a little frustrated, that's all."

My next attempt ended up with a string of drool hanging from my mouth. I decided that was enough.

"How do dragons learn to do it?" Astrid was asking.

"Oh!" Fishlegs practically jumped to his tiptoes. "From what I see, they just kind of seem to stumble into it. Like one day they suddenly realize they can breathe fire, and that's it!"

"Wonderful," I said. My chin hit the ground. Smelled earthy.

"Hiccup, we've got to figure this out somehow." Astrid's fingers gently pinched the scruff of my neck and pulled me off the ground.

I stared at her, trying to communicate that I had no ideas.

"Maybe he just needs some encouragement." Before I knew what was happening, Ruffnut had me. Most of her left half was soaked with mud, and both of the forearms she was using to hold me.

This would not turn out well.

"Come on!" she hissed, shaking me a little. "We want fire."

"Fire! Fire!" Tuffnut chanted.

I blew a bit of hot air into her face, but otherwise did nothing.

"Hiccup!"

Ruffnut wasn't like Astrid; she wasn't gentle. She didn't hold, she _squeezed_. She had her arms hooked underneath my armpits from behind, so that I dangled like a sack of potatoes. It wasn't pleasant. At the same time I felt her grip was too tight, it was also too loose and I thought I was at risk of slipping to the ground. My ribs ached from the strain.

"I don't think that's going to work," Astrid said, sounding amused.

I squirmed. The weight of my tail jerked me from side to side. Ruffnut didn't adjust her grip once. Instead, the hard bar of her arm dug deep into my chest, and something automatically shifted to accommodate –

Wait, what?

I frowned. Something had moved . . . but I couldn't feel anything amiss. I felt normal. Well, as normal as I could be, given the situation. But something _had _moved . . .

I did it again.

There was _something _in my chest. Not a living thing – that would be creepy – but some kind of muscles Now that I had noticed them, they were as easy to move as my shoulders were. Not that I would be rotating these ones or anything; these weird chest muscles seemed to only be able to clench and unclench.

. . . First my mostly automated tail, then the muscles controlling my wings and now this? What other weird things were hiding in my body?

I couldn't answer that, so I focused on something I could: What did those muscles do? They seemed to be naturally clenched, so I left them unclenched for a while.

It quickly became apparent that keeping them that way stopped me from breathing.

Okay. Great. Plenty of useful things there. Suffocating myself was always an excellent –

Wait a second. Why would dragons have a means to cut off their air, unless . . .

Oh. Oh _yes_.

My mouth cracked into a grin. I set my eyes on Snotlout's helmet, aimed –

Fire!

It went slightly off course. Didn't hit him, but whipped right past his head. No one realized what was going on at first, until a tree a little ways behind us suddenly caught on fire. Then five pairs of eyes sought me out.

"Hiccup, was that you?"

I grinned and spat another fireball – at the ground this time. The twins cheered.

"Okay, that's one thing done," Astrid said happily. "Stoick will be glad to hear about this."

"We could go show him!" I suggested, wriggling in Ruffnut's arms. Astrid understood me easily enough.

Dad was down at the docks. Gobber was next to him, absently munching on a chicken leg and using the bone to direct the others. They were hauling crates and barrels onto the ships for the journey tomorrow. They weren't the dragon-headed long ships though; for this occasion, Dad had ordered the construction of a more _knarrs_. They were wide cargo ships, and didn't require as many Viking as the long ships. Back in the old days, Dad claimed we had a fleet of a dozen knarrs or so. But then the dragons started attacking and fire doesn't exactly mix well with wood . . . you can imagine what had happened.

"Stoick, we've done it!" Astrid announced. There was a bit of swagger in her step, but I wasn't about to point it out to anyone. Instead, I proudly spit a fireball at the air above Dad's head.

He laughed. "Excellent. Then you two better start packing for tomorrow."

"Sure, although I don't know if Hiccup has anything to pack anymore."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll find something."

Astrid was about to say something, when shouts caught all of our attention.

There was another ship sailing into the harbour, and it wasn't waving our flag. No need for alarm yet, though. I recognized the ship's emblem as that of the Meathead tribe, a clan that, as Fishlegs put it, was made of your typical Viking: all brawn, not-so-much brain.

"Ahoy, Stoick!" That was Mogadon, chief of their tribe. Though he looked more like Gobber with his peg-leg and eye patch, he was to Dad what Snotlout used to be to me: _the_ rival. Not that you could tell right now. There were no arm-wrestling contests to be won, so the two were smiling brightly at each other.

"Mogadon," Dad said, "are you looking for something?"

The big Viking shrugged. I didn't fail to notice that he refused to look at Toothless or me. "Nah, just thought I'd pop by and say hello. You still waiting for your ship to get back from the witch?"

A pause.

"What do you mean?" Dad asked.

Mogadon said, "The Fiends said you sent a party out to investigate the old hag. When we sailed by, there was still a ship there."

Dad frowned. "We did send a crew. But we didn't send any boats."

* * *

**Review Response:**

**Guest (With the longer review): Thank you! Yep, there's still a few things about the witch that haven't been revealed. That said, the witch herself isn't that terribly important - it's the things she's connected to that are.**

**Hiccup is attempting to go the if-I-don't-talk-about-no-one-will-remember route :)**

**Guest#2: Thanks!**

**remark: I dunno if you can Toothless the old and mature dragon. Sometimes, he can be pretty childish too :D**

**Bonnie: Shh! Don't remind him; he's trying to pretend it never happened.**

**Greath: Thanks!**

**randomreader WITH a profile: Even more than a pile of puppies?**

**Guest #1: I'm going to guess you like it then.**

**dragoncreators: Well, some people just have the gift, you know. Like ferrets. Ferrets are always adorable.**

**I'd imagine it would involve a lot of squealing and traumatized Hiccup :)  
**

**a random person: That's more or less what I was going for!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Ever seen a parrot? Like one of those birds that pirates (which everyone know are just a madder form of Viking) apparently carried around on their shoulders? Not me. Not in person, at least. There were always those little carving the traders brought along, but never the real deal. I would just have to settle for Nadders, then. Those dragons were definitely birdlike, and as colourful as the parrot drawings I had seen. Although they had a lot more spikes.

But before you ask, no, there's no important reason to mention that. That was just where my thoughts had wandered after watching Astrid swoop down onto the docks with Stormfly. The dragon had flicked her wings out in preparation of landing, reminding me of an osprey about to take a plunge, leading me to think about birds in general. Hence, parrots. But thoughts of pirate-accompanying, obnoxious birds were wiped from my mind when Astrid approached Dad and I with a clear intent to deliver a report.

"Well?" Dad prompted her.

Sounding confused by her own words, Astrid said, "They say they're fishermen."

"Bearing our flag?"

"They were worried about being attacked by the other tribes."

Okay . . . this wouldn't be the first time that had happened. Both the attacking of non-Viking vessels and the fake flag bearing. Usually, we Vikings could still tell apart our own by the much-harder-to-imitate boat designs, but like I had said earlier, the Meatheads weren't the brightest bunch. Still, in light of everything else, the odds were low that these were some shivering fishermen using us as a shield.

Dad turned. There was a small audience behind us. Some older Vikings, mostly those that would be accompanying us tomorrow, were there, along with the other riders. There was Gothi, too, frowning, still as a Terror crawled around her shoulders.

"Come." Dad clapped his hand on Astrid's shoulder. One look told the others that they were not to follow. I, of course, being Berk's technical heir, followed anyways.

We walked up the path toward my house. Once, everyone else was out of earshot, Dad asked, "Do you believe them?"

"No," Astrid said bluntly. "They're hiding something. They were too . . . _guarded _to be just fishermen. They weren't hostile, but they kept looking around like they were expecting to be attacked."

"That isn't an unrealistic assumption on their part," Dad admitted.

"Yes, but they weren't watching for ships or an army. They were watching the _sky_."

There was a minute twitch of Dad's jaw. "Did they know you were Berkian?"

"I don't think so," she said. "And I was careful to leave Stormfly out of sight. They associate that place with dragons."

"They must know something, then."

But of course. Apparently everybody knew something but us.

Dad said, "We'll investigate again at nightfall. Me and you, Astrid."

I whined.

But Dad shook his head. "I'm not planning to talk to them, or to be seen. You stay, Hiccup."

Sullenly, I extended a wing. Even though I stood directly in the sunlight, there was no reflection to be seen. Instead, the interlocking scales seemed to absorb light, to literally remove it from existence. Black. Pitch-black. If I had known how to fly, it would have been_ perfect_.

Before I could even put on my pouting face, I smelled something. Dad and Astrid, being as tall as they were (and ahead of me), didn't see me bristle like a dog. Don't worry, there was no danger. Yet. Hard to tell with them . . .

They must have seen me, because when I dashed towards the source of the scent, I could hear the slapping of feet against the ground. I didn't bother to chase. My legs were too short to keep up.

But that didn't mean this was over.

* * *

There was no sky, tonight. No moon, no stars, just a black void of nothingness. Still, there was easily enough light to see by, even without the torches. There was no yellow though, and what pink remained was barely that – more a purple, at best. Even the orange fires struck my eyes as being ruby, or else too bright to see.

It literally hurt to stare at them. They gave off that same blinding, shard of light that the sun would on a bright day, and a colourless, white halo circled them. I guess that was the drawback of being able to see in the dark; no fireside parties for me, but hold one in a dark alley and I was good.

Berk was blue, purple and grey. Like someone had leeched the colour out of my flame and smeared the village with it. They were nice colours. Easy on the eyes.

A shadow stirred in the town square. Against a backdrop of firelight, Stormfly was beating her wings in anticipation. Her shadow swayed dangerously; as the light shifted, it occasionally outlined the edge of a Viking. Not Astrid, though. No, the shadow was much too big for that.

I didn't need to smell him to identify him. Thornado may not be around anymore, but he had chosen Dad for a reason. Dragons, I'd noticed, seemed to gravitate towards those who were like them. And Dad and Thornado were both . . . loud. Well, Dad didn't have supersonic vocal abilities, but he could still burst an eardrum or two when he was angry. Especially when you were a dragon. Dad's voice had this low undertone that let it ride the air like a Thunderdrum surfing the waves. It carried far; sometimes, I swore that even the earth rumbled with his voice. And it was that rumbly voice I was hearing right now.

"Are you ready, Astrid?"

"I am." I heard Stormfly cluck as well. "Is Hiccup sleeping in his nest again?"

Of _course_ he told her. That wasn't a surprise.

"He was last I checked."

Leather slid against scales as they prepared their dragons.

Astrid sighed. "He's watching us, isn't he?"

"Of course he is." Dad scanned the rooftops as he very loudly said, "The boy doesn't know when to give up. Not when dragons are involved."

Astrid waved in the opposite direction of where I was. "We're fine, Hiccup. You don't need to come along. That means no coming after us, either."

"Hiccup can't fly," Dad said. "So, unless he manages to sneak up on us . . ."

Astrid's giggle tickled my ears. "He could be hiding in your beard."

"Hmm. It is getting a tad long, isn't it?"

"I'm just joking. You look fine, sir."

They shot a few more remarks in my direction, all while trying to spot me along the darkness. But, they were right. I wasn't going to be flying after them, and there was no way I was taking Toothless for a night flight like this. That being said, I wasn't the only other one with a dragon . . .

And judging by the shift in the air, they had just arrived.

Just as Dad and Astrid took off on their dragons, my sharp eyes traced out three silhouettes in the shadows. A few moments passed, and then Snotlout and the twins crept out into the square. Snotlout shielded his eyes as if it were day as he stared upwards.

With all the noise they were making now, I was surprised Astrid and Dad hadn't spotted them. But, to give credit where credit's due, when the three of them got their mind to do something they weren't supposed to, then their abilities seemed to gain a one hundred percent jump – especially the twins. Snotlout whistled short and loud, and then Hookfang lumbered out into the open, followed by Barf and Belch.

I sighed. Here we go.

They didn't see me enter. The dragons definitely smelled something, but my scent was familiar enough that they didn't freak out. I made it all the way to Snotlout's foot, and then cleared my throat.

"Hey, guys."

Snotlout twitched. "Uh, did you guys hear something?"

Tuffnut said, "Yeah . . ."

I shouted, "Here! I'm down here!"

Snotlout looked down.

Next thing I knew, I was on my back, with a bruise growing on my chin. Not that my scales would let you see it.

"Oooo . . ." Ruffnut and Tuffnut had their '_Somebody's in trouble_' faces on. Snotlout scowled, and took a step back from the scene of the crime.

"He shouldn't have snuck up on me!" he complained.

"And you guys shouldn't be here." I rolled back to my feet, resisting the urge to rub my sore chin. I knew I had smelled them earlier today.

"Do you think he's going to tell?" Tuffnut asked.

Ruffnut shrugged. "How can he? He –"

I screeched.

It lasted about half a second. I could have gone longer, but Snotlout clamped down on my snout and snapped it shut.

Snotlout hissed. "We'll take you along if you stay quest!"

Not the result I had expected, but still acceptable!

The one downside was that apparently I had to ride with Ruffnut. I mean I would rather be with Barf and Belch than Hookfang, since he wasn't the most . . . obedient dragon. But still, _Ruffnut_? Ugh, I really wish Tuffnut would have been more motivated to annoy his sister, since apparently I was going to spend the rest of the night being cuddled by an overly aggressive Viking.

Night flying had always been different from flying in day. It was colder for one, and the skies tended to be less crowded. Most birds preferred the daylight, and the only dragons that tended to be out now were ones from the Strike or Tidal class. If you looked downward, you could see some of the latter. They would breach from time to time, appearing as dark blobs on an otherwise smooth sea of silver.

The ride there was pretty quiet. The twins squabbled a bit, but it never lasted long. Snotlout didn't seem to have the patience to side with either of them; I was actually surprised at how focused he was. Like he had taken his whole situation personally. Hookfang, on the other hand, had already made two attempts to fly off course, and Snotlout barely managed to keep him on track.

Just as the Meatheads had claimed, there was a ship docked by the witch's hut. The Meatheads must have seen this ship from a distance if they thought it was ours. This was a double-sail boat, and all of ours had a single sail. And the sail shape was odd too; like a quarter circle. Not as effective as ours, I was willing to bet. The bow was fairly close to the water; at least they had gotten that part right. There was a raised cabin area at the stern, and on the deck, what looked to be an entrance to a part below deck.

I counted three sailors, two of which were seated on crates, and the other was leaning against the railing. I was surprised that they were still awake this late, although the reason why became apparent when I picked up the faint scent of meat. But while the sailors were exactly where we had expected them to be, Astrid and Dad were not. My guess was that they were in hiding, waiting for the sailors to sleep before they investigated.

"So, what's the plan?" Ruffnut asked.

Before Snotlout could say anything, Tuffnut said, "I dunno. Climb over the side and hide behind those crates at the stern?"

Yep. Leave it to the twins to see the perfect place to eavesdrop.

"Hookfang's too big to get me that close," Snotlout said.

"Okay, then we'll do it. You keep watch, or something."

Ruffnut shifted me so that my spine slotted into her armpit. They guided Barf and Belch in, staying just above the waves. Snotlout and Hookfang hovered a bit, before heading to the shelter offered by the forest. I had a feeling he wasn't totally okay with this plan.

The twins – with me – hopped over the rail. They pressed up right against the crates in a way that I knew meant they had done this very action many times before. What a shocker. Tuffnut signalled for their dragon to leave, but Barf refused to move until Ruffnut did the same. That left us three, alone, on a boat with strangers. Just another day in the life of Berkians.

"I can't hear them!" Ruffnut complained.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Tuffnut hissed back.

"I don't know, genius. Maybe something not stupid?"

Yep. Even volunteering for a stealth-based mission couldn't stop these two. I head-butted Ruffnut to remind them I was there, then tapped my head. _Dragon. Sharp hearing_.

"Good idea. You go!"

Before I knew it, I had been shoved out into the open.

They still couldn't see me. My belly rubbed against the ground as I crawled forward. Slowly. Slowly . . . I only needed a few steps, just enough so that I could focus on them and not be bombarded by the twin's whispers. My ears swivelled, acting independently to fulfill my wish of being to hear what look to be a private –

"- believe we came out here for nothing."

Perfect.

That had been sailor number one, otherwise known as the sailor who was standing up. He reeked of sweat, even more so than the others, and fish. There was a strange growth on his head, and it took me a few seconds to realize it was just a funny hat. Seriously, it looked like the guy had stuck a vase on his head. The other two had hoods lined with the fur of some canine. I couldn't tell if it was dog or wolf. What I could tell, however, that it was a little excessive. All three of them were bundled up in thick coats; they couldn't have been from around here.

"So, what are we going to do now?" said sailor number two, aka. the one holding a strip of jerky. "The hag ain't here, and there's no note saying where she's gone . . ."

"Not our problem," sailor one said. "We're not the ones who have to pass on the news. That's our boss's job."

Far off in the distance behind him, on the island the witch's hut lay, I saw motion. Two figures, one with distinctive wings. Snotlout and Hookfang, looking for a place to hide. Actually, their hiding place was already sufficient; it was only my Night Fury vision that allowed me to see them.

"You think she ran?" our last sailor asked. "She might have caught wind –"

"Nah," sailor one said. "He wouldn't go out of his way to hurt her. Boss says she practically raised the kid after the dragons massacred his village."

The third sailor, the one holding a lantern, snorted. "And then he paid her back by stealing her dragon. Sounds like a true family to me."

Second sailor shrugged. First one said, "She was supposed to be working on something important for him. Seems like they're on good enough terms."

Working on something? Working on what? Did this have to do with the 'control' Fishlegs had talked about? In that case, it didn't seem like she had succeeded. That much was a relief.

"Whatever. It isn't our business. Hey, you want any mead?"

And the third sailor began walking right toward me.

I crouched low. The light from his lantern washed over me, but I remained invisible. He stopped right by the crates, pried the lid off one, and rummaged through it. His elbow jerked and twisted wildly, finally bumping the lid, which fell –

Right onto Tuffnut's foot.

"Huh?" The sailor leapt back. Tuffnut's groan had been quiet and brief, only enough that the sailor wasn't entirely sure wheather he had heard something. To make things better, his exclamation had attracted the attention of his friends. They stood too, and began to advance on the crates –

I leapt into the shadows, and then shot a fireball into the sky.

The diversion was enough. All possible stowaways were forgotten as their eyes flickered with the purple light of my flame. "Where did that come from?" one murmured, as they began to look around.

In the distance, I saw Hookfang rear up, clearly alarmed. But thank you, he stayed put –

_Unlike Barf and Belch_.

Upon seeing the fireball appear over the place where their riders were, the Zippleback had darted towards the boat in the quickest, most un-sneaky way he could. And those sailors, already expecting to see a dragon, saw him.

"Incoming dragon!"

"Good. At least we won't go back empty-handed."

Sailor two threw his jerky to the ground, and ran to the rail to man some sort of machine. It was mounted onto the ship, but could rotate on its platform. And its shape, it looked . . .

It looked like a _crossbow_.

The twins had peeked out and saw it, too. They were gesturing frantically for their dragon to go back, but either he couldn't see them, or had already made his mind up to 'protect' them. Toothless could get like that, too. But there was no Toothless, now. Just Barf and Belch, and a crossbow aimed right at them . . .

Sailor two grinned. "That's it. Come closer."

There was no choice.

I pounced.

"_Argh!_" My mouth filled with coppery liquid as I sunk my teeth in. I was off the sailor in a flash, running madly around the ship's deck – anything to stay out of sight.

"A rat! I think there's a rat!"

More lanterns were lit. Barf and Belch were close now, and the commotion appeared to have attracted attention on shore. Hookfang had spread his wings, but I had no idea if Snotlout had told him to, or not.

Then, I was illuminated in red. And this time, there would be no hiding.

"Is that a Night Fury?" sailor three asked.

"I'm not sure . . . Grab it!"

They lunged. The first two slammed into the deck, one right on top of the other, actually. I would have paused to laugh, but the last one was chasing after me, the light of his lantern following me like some creepy ghost. I ran back toward the crates, pressing my back against the wood as he closed in –

_Clang!_ Ruffnut popped up from behind a crate, bowing her head just in time so that the sailor's head collided with her metal helmet. Next to her, Tuffnut laughed, "Bet he's going to feel that in the morning."

One of the sailors _growled_ as he stood. Not a real growl, but that low, angry sound that makes somebody sound like they're in pain. Or trying to terribly imitate a bear. The twins didn't seem frightened by it; if anything, they were even more pumped up. But we were still outnumbered, and if the second sailor's descent into the cargo hold meant anything, they were armed.

"Time to go!" Ruffnut deftly scooped me up, and then the twins ran for the rail. They leapt gracefully into the air, soaring right above the wide-open sea. One of the sailors' mouths fell open. Then, our flight came to an abrupt stop as Barf and Belch came up from underneath. With practiced ease, the twins slithered up his necks until they were in their usual spot by the head.

"See ya, wouldn't want to be ya!" Tuffnut crowed.

They wound one victory lap around the masts and then headed out to sea–

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the mounted crossbows pointing right at us.

* * *

**Review Responses:**

**vangian13: Well, this is the only place I can really respond to you... so what's your username, then?**

**havic: You mean apart from this one, or more chapters in this one focusing on Toothless and Hiccup?**

**Ninjastar2.0: Thank you! But no, there will be no superpowers for Hiccup. He's just your ordinary Night Fury...**

**Jazz: I believe that first question of yours has been answered. As for the other, I made up the Fiends, but Mogadon is from the books. (And yeah, it probably does on cats. They be crazy ;p) **

**Guest: Thank you!**

**kuraby: At this point, Hiccup doesn't really need any. Dragons are designed so that once they purposely breathe fire, the how to do it is engraved into their minds. Can't have them accidentally charring everything in sight now :)**

**Matt: I just keep hearing someone say "Ooooo" ;)**

**a random person: I imagine it would be the plot X)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

It happened so fast. All I saw was a glint of silver, and then something cold and _hard_ smashed into me. Barf, or Belch, shrieked, drowning out the sounds of his struggling wings. We plunged downward. Right into the water.

Something heavy weighed us down. I squirmed out of Ruffnut's grasps, clawing for the surface. But there was something in the way, a net, but one of metal. I couldn't break though. And even though we were underwater, I heard Ruffnut's panic as she realized the same thing.

Barf and Belch whipped their body from side to side, trying to swim like an eel. Belch had his head free and above the surface; Barf was under with us, but it seemed like they only needed to breathe with one. Barf watched us helplessly, entangled in the net. Streams of bubbles escaped from between his teeth as he tried to call to his rider. Tuffnut, also free, pulled at the net in an attempt to free his sister and me.

And me? I just floated there, caught in an unreal daze as around me, the water grew hazy from the twins' thrashing. I . . . I was having a hard time grasping the severity of this. My body had already surrendered, growing cold as if preparing for a deep sleep . . .

The sky suddenly glowed orange. The light faded.

Then something broke through the waves.

Hookfang bellowed as he strained to lift us clear of the ocean. Snotlout was practically standing on his back, unable to do anything but watch. Barf and Belch were limp in Hookfang's grip, although their wings twitched erratically in a fruitless attempt to fly. The metal mesh had wrapped around their body, pinning their wings, and Barf's head, which had apparently been too close. Ruffnut was squashed against his neck, held down by the spherical weights that hung from the net's edges. Tuffnut was clinging to Belch.

"So, there really are dragon riders!" The sailor smirked as he said that. With agonizing slowness, he pointed the same mounted crossbow he had used to take us down at Hookfang.

Snotlout hit his dragon's head. "Go, _move_!"

With a great stroke of his wings, Hookfang pitched sideways. With a great _whoosh _a metal net shot past us, but the sailors were already preparing for another go. For the first time, I realized there wasn't just one of those crossbows, but several – at least three on each side. One for each of them.

Hookfang dodged the next one, and the next. But in doing so, he swung the hapless Zippleback and his passengers sharp to the left, and was unprepared for the sudden jerk. His wings pumped frantically, but we were already toppling sideways. The whole boat rocked as we crashed into the mast. Hookfang managed to back away -

- just as a net slammed into his side.

The force knocked Snotlout off. He landed on the deck with a yelp, followed by the much louder crash of everyone else. Tuffnut cried out, mostly in annoyance, and he pushed at Hookfang's back, which had fallen across his shins. He had just barely missed crushing Belch.

Snotlout stood unsteadily, his helmet crooked. "Whoa -!"

He stopped short. The sailors had no need for the mounted crossbows now, but that didn't mean they couldn't use regular ones.

Hookfang growled. He tried to stand, but with his wings and a leg caught in the net, he couldn't. His sweaty scent suddenly adopted a smoky aftertaste, but before he lit himself up, he remembered he was tangled up with some very non-fireproof humans. Not me, though. Now that I wasn't at risk of drowning, I could think enough to find a gap small enough to crawl through. I ran up to stand next to Snotlout –

Who, true to form, was trying to use force.

" . . . don't let us go, then they will hunt you down!"

"Hard for them to do if they don't know where to look." Sailor one walked toward us. He had his crossbow levelled at Snotlout's chest. "Dead men tell no tales."

"But all of this seems rather unnecessary!" Sailor three lobbed an arm around the first sailor's shoulders. "We have no problem with you. We just want the dragons, that's all."

There was many protests voiced at once.

"Alright, settle down. The Night Fury, then. Just the one. One itsy, bitsy dragon."

"Uh, yeah. I don't think so."

The sailor sneered, "You're not in a position to bargain, kid."

It was a standoff. Them versus us. Them, with arrows, and us with fire on a wooden ship, and a small knife Snotlout had brought with him that was still in its sheathe. As hard as I thought, I couldn't see a way out of this.

Then, a miracle happened.

Out of nowhere, spikes cleaved all three crossbows in two, ripping parts of them right out of the sailors' hands and nailing them to the deck. Stormfly screeched; the sailors ran for the mounted crossbows, but then something literally smashed through the cabin, leaving a jagged hole that ran all the way through. The boat trembled as Skullcrusher slammed his front paws down. Dad leapt off his back, and pulled out a long sword in one easy motion. It was a display meant entirely for intimidation, and boy, _it worked_.

His expression never shifted. "Let them go."

"Okay, okay! No need to be hast – _whoa_!" The sailor flew right into the mast when Dad threw him aside. Dad bent his legs, and then grabbed the net trapping Hookfang and lifted it – dragon and all. Hookfang was able to roll out from there, and Dad set to freeing Barf and Belch as Astrid and Stormfly finally landed.

"Hiccup!"

"I'm fine, Astrid. Just a little waterlogged, that's all."

Of course, seeing as I no longer spoke Norse, she had to check that out for herself. By the time she was done, Ruffnut and her dragon were free, and Dad was advancing on the sailors.

"Who are you?" he growled. "Why are you here?"

"It-it's nothing personal!" They were practically scrambling over each other to get away from him. "We're just dragon trappers! We trap them, and sell them."

"Is that so? Well, there's been a change in plans." Dad easily picked out the leader of the three, and promptly grabbed his lapels, holding him up in midair and slamming him against a mast. "The dragons in this sector are off-limits."

He let go, and the sailor gasped as he fell to the ground.

"There's one other thing," Dad said. He pointed at the witch's hut. "What did you want with her?"

"Her? Who are you talking about? I don't . . . alright! Alright! We were hired to check up on her progress or something."

It was amazing how a hand around the throat changed people's minds.

"Progress about what?" Dad spat each word out.

"We weren't told the details. All we know is that it had to do with something crazy. Something to do with dragons. And people. People and dragons . . ."

". . . People turning into dragons?" Astrid said quietly.

The sailor blinked. "Yeah, actually that might have been it."

Then it . . . it wasn't an accident. It slowly hit all of us. Dad turned with agonizing slowness, whispering my name. This was bad. This was very bad.

"Uh, are we missing something?" one of the sailors asked.

"Get out of here. There's nothing for you to find." Dad released the sailor, and beckoned Skullcrusher forward. The dragon snapped at the other men as he did so. Dad grabbed me with one hand, climbed atop the dragon, and before he signalled the rest to depart, told the sailors one last thing:

"Don't _ever _come back."

We left them with that very vague threat.

It was very quiet.

"I told you not to come," Dad said.

I whined and flattened my ears. _Sorry_.

He turned to look at the others. "Whose idea was this?"

"His!" the twins answered in unison. They pointed one finger at Snotlout accusingly.

Astrid sneered. "Of _course_ it was. What were -?"

Dad held up his hand. "Astrid, stop. No, no buts. Let it go."

She clearly wasn't happy about it, but there was only so long you could argue with a chief.

Dad's voice had gave away nothing, and his expression was equally stony, I tried to smell his emotions, just so I could gauge how much trouble I would be once when we got home. There was anger – would have been a shock if there hadn't been – but not as much as I was expecting. There was something else rolling underneath it too, that left a faint aftertaste of sadness, but wasn't it. I didn't know what it was.

When we landed, he dropped me on the ground, not even bothering to tell me to go home. He didn't need to. My pre-Toothless years had taught me how to read his '_I'm quite upset with you_' body language at a glance. Dad said nothing to Astrid, or the twins, but when Snotlout tried to walk past, he held him back.

"Come with me," he said. Snotlout didn't protest.

They walked off into the darkness.

* * *

I was in trouble.

Not the '_I'm going to stand here and yell at you!_' kind of trouble. Already went through that with Dad and Astrid. Nope, this was Toothless's turn. When I first got back, he had been all excited and insisted on sniffing me everywhere. Then, he remembered that I had disappeared in the first place and got quite mad. There had been lots of hissing and pacing, and now he was just ignoring me.

He had his back to me. Every time I moved to stand in front of him, he would turn his head and fix his gaze on the wall. When I got insistent, he would stand and go somewhere else, always with his back to me. The one time I had attacked his tail, he whipped it hard enough that it knocked the air out of me.

Which was why I was currently crouched in front of him, giving him my best, adorable stare.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Next time, I'll invite you along. How about that?"

Toothless continued to sulk. He was hunched over, so that I could barely fit in the space between his snout and the floor.

"Come on, Toothless. Nobody got hurt. Not for our lack of trying, but you can't understand what I'm saying anyways, so it doesn't really matter."

I bounded up to him, and laid my paws on his forehead. "Toothless!"

He shifted, sending me to the ground.

"Come on, Toothless. How can you resist this adorable face?" I rolled right underneath Toothless's chin and started swatting at it. "Please, I'm sorry!"

I smiled at him. "Forgive me?"

Head cocked to one side, he studied me. His lips parted, just an inch, and the corners began to lift.

"Thank you!"

He rubbed against me. _I love you_.

I rubbed against him, too. "Yes, I know. I happen to be a very lovable person."

* * *

Despite our late-night adventure, Dad still insisted on leaving at the crack of noon. Sleep meant nothing to a big hairy Viking like him. Nor to me. I did ride a _Night _Fury, after all. Sleep was less forgiving to the twins, and they spent most of the morning yawning and dozing off on various barrels and crates around the deck.

"You be a good girl." Stormfly purred as Astrid rubbed down her neck. She probably didn't really understand what her rider was saying, or else she would be putting up a bigger fuss. Same went for Meatlug, who was at Fishleg's heels, blinking with confusion when he blocked her from walking onto the boat. Barf and Belch were squabbling with each other. Toothless was hanging upside down from the sail's boom.

And Hookfang? There was no sign of him, or his rider.

"Alright!" Gobber dropped a large crate onto the deck, yanking his hook free afterwards. "I think that's the last of it."

"All the food's aboard?"

"Enough for two weeks both ways, and a bit of midnight snacking."

Dad nodded. Barring a vicious storm, it should only take us a little more than a week to reach our destination, but better safe than living off rats. If there were even any. The Terrors had done a great job at taking care of our former rodent problem.

As for where we were headed, this year we were off to the island of the Rabid Raiders, the Viking settlement closest to the Roman Empire. Also the furthest away. It wasn't all bad though; because of their distance, the Raiders hadn't fallen inside the range of the Green Death's territory. Or, in layman's terms, they hadn't been harassed by dragons nearly as much as the rest of us. The whole situation was kind of nonexistent with them. Nope, instead of participating in the engaging pastime of tangling with fire-breathing, sheep-snatching, hard-as-rock dragons, they had partaken in old, traditional Viking activities - like plundering the hapless villages of the nearby Romans. Out of all of us, they were probably the only 'regular' Vikings. It would make a good neutral territory for this meeting concerning dragons.

"Oi, there's the lad."

His dragon nowhere in sight, Snotlout walked onto the docks. Unlike usual, he didn't seem very enthused about the journey; he didn't seem like he was feeling much of anything. He had that glazed, emotionless look of someone who hadn't slept for so long that he had forgotten how to feel.

I warbled at Dad, surprised that Snotlout was allowed to come after last night.

Arms crossed over his chest, gaze fixed on my cousin, Dad said, "He's next in line for the chiefdom after you. If you can't be here, he has to be."

Makes sense. Someone had to be there to take my place. Usually, it would be Astrid, but we weren't . . . uh . . . officially _committed_ yet, so that wouldn't mesh with the rest of the tribes. Snotlout, it was, then!

There was a look exchanged between Dad and Snotlout, just a second long. But in that second, I saw disappointment on Dad's face, the kind that used to be directed at me. And Snotlout slumped past him exactly as I used to.

"Everyone aboard!" Dad shouted.

Astrid murmured one last thing to her dragon, and then signalled for her to stay. Stormfly clucked curiously, but she didn't move as Astrid walked onto the ship.

"Toothless." Dad poked my big overgrown lizard with a stick, until Toothless finally grew annoyed enough to drop down from the boom. He complained loudly as Dad and Gobber herded him off the ship, plopping down on the docks with a pout as Astrid told him firmly to stay.

"Him, too." Dad pointed at a Terror sitting on the wheel.

One of the Vikings grabbed the Terror. Instead of tossing him away, however, he hugged the Terror to his chest. "But Sneaky is our ship's dragon! You can't go on a voyage without the ship's dragon. It's bad luck!"

"That's cats," Dad groaned.

"Well, we don't have any cats. So, our ship has a dragon!"

"We were fine before the dragons," Dad said.

But other sailors were beginning to crowd around Sneaky, who preened at the attention. "You can't go without the ship's dragon!"

"Alright, alright. The Terror can stay."

_"Sneaky_," the Viking holding him corrected. He was cuddling and rocking the little Terror like a baby. Sneaky just laid there with a smug look on his face.

". . . Right. Is everyone present?" Nobody said otherwise, but Dad counted just in case. "Okay. Haul in the anchor!"

Three strong Vikings pulled in the anchor with nothing but pure strength. They set it down gently on the ship's deck, and then carelessly tossed the pile of rope on top. The three joined the others at the oars as Dad marched up to the helm. Chin high, stomach sucked in, he took one of the wheel's spokes in each of his huge hands, and bellowed, "Row!"

The oars moved. They dug deep into the water with that sucking sound we all knew by heart. The boat rocked, and began to move out to sea, as the Vikings on shore cheered and waved. I had a feeling at least three of them would suggest throwing a party.

"Bye, Dad! See you in a couple of weeks!" The other riders were crowded at the rails, waving goodbyes to their families. Of all of them, I was the only one to actually have my parent on board; Spitelout usually came along on these trips, but in light of the whole my-son-has-turned-into-a-Night-Fury thing, Dad had left him behind so that he could take charge of trying to find a cure. Not that I expected him to achieve much success. Spitelout was a great Viking, but he wasn't me or Fishlegs.

Speaking of Fishlegs, he was already starting to glance down at the witch's journal. With the new information that we had gained, mainly that turning me into a dragon hadn't been an accident, he was determined to go through it again. As he had told us in a frenzy, he hadn't seen any mention of dragon transformations in there, so he must have really not been paying attention. Personally, I doubted that; it was _Fishlegs_. But he was right that there must have been _something_ in there.

The oars stroked again. They did until we were out enough from Berk, at which pointed the Vikings drew them in. The other teens adjusted the sail under my supervision, turning it into the direction of the air currents. The sail bulged, and then we were one with the wind, soaring through the waves.

"Looks like we got a sunny day ahead," Gobber said. "Here's to good sailing!"

He handed Dad a mug of ale. They knocked them together, and then slurped them down.

Fishlegs frowned. "Uh, Stoick?"

"Yes . . . Oh."

Toothless had taken to the air. He called to us, and then swooped in–

"Oh, no, you don't!" Dad got in Toothless's way, and waved his arms wildly to stop him from landing. "Go on, shoo!"

Toothless made confused noises, but eventually was chased off from the deck. He lingered above our ship instead, circling.

"Stoick?" Gobber said.

"Don't worry," Dad said. "He'll give up eventually."

* * *

**Review Response: **

**Havic: I'm afraid Hiccup will be remaining as a kid in this. No rapid aging going on here.**

**Guest (#1): They would certainly like to test the eel theory, but they have to get past Astrid ;) I can't remember if the chin thing was ever brought up or I'm mixing this story up with one of my other ones. But like I said to havic, no rapid aging going on here. But I'm glad you like this dragon!Hiccup!**

**sweettea1: Well of course that isn't their real profession :)**

**Jazz: Nope, it wasn't the Fiends. There is no relationship between the Fiends and the witch other than the fact they used to do business together.**

**A random person: I am familiar with what happened in HTTYD2, yes.**

**Guest (#2) : Yes! It is a plot!**

**Guest (#3): Not for a few more chapters. I know when he's going to figure out, but I haven't reached that point in the story.**

**Hiccstrid: Haha, no. The cure is not anthro.**


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